</ 


Dear  old  garden,  lying  there  so  beautiful  in  the  moonlight.  I  haw 
always But  even  as  I  look,  the  black  storm-clouds  engulf  the  moon. 


een  so   happy  with   you 


The  Song  Beneath 
the  Keys 


BY 
EMMA  BEAVER  BYRNE 


BOSTON 

THE  ROXBURGH  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
INC. 


Copyright,  1916 
BY  EMMA  BEAVER  BYRNE 


All  rights  reserved 


VAIL-BALLOU    COMPANY 

•I.NGMAHTON  AND  NEW  YOU* 


TO 

M.E.C.  AND  M.E.Y. 

GRATITUDE  IS  THE  ONLY  DEBT  THAT, 
TO  REPAY,  WE  MUST  STILL  OWE. 


21344S7 


PRELUDE 

"  Oh,  the  words  beneath  the  keys  ! 

How  they  baffle,  wound  and  tease! 
Now  you  have  them  —  now  they're  gone 
A  song  that's  finished  e'er  begun. 

Filled  with  roses  and  with  lees, 
Is  my  song  beneath  the  keys." 


THE 
SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

CHAPTER  I 

JUNE. 

I  HAVE  just  come  in  out  of  the  moonlight,  where 
I  have  been  questioning,  dreaming,  since  night- 
fall. I  gazed  at  the  cold  distant  moon,  mentally 
pleading  for  a  peep  into  the  future,  some  little  sign 
to  guide  me,  but  she  sailed  on  unheeding.  Nature, 
so  warm  and  responsive  at  times,  again  seems  cruel 
and  cold.  She  has  her  unfailing  systems,  a  guiding 
power  that  leads  to  sure  results,  that  no  sorrow  of 
man  can  affect  or  change.  Nature  never  retracts; 
the  work  of  today  advances  the  promise  of  to- 
morrow, while  man  is  left  to  drift  at  will  —  like  a 
creature  of  chance,  he  seems,  like  a  pawn  on  the 
chessboard  of  life,  played  by  the  hand  of  fate,  to 
win  or  lose  as  the  chance  may  be.  His  work  today 
may  be  all  wrong  in  the  light  of  tomorrow's  pro- 
gress, and  a  lifelong  trouble  forged. 

How  I  long  for  some  authority  other  than  my 
own  to  direct  me,  and  as  my  thoughts  revert  to  the 

i 


2  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

dear  mother,  who  left  me  when  but  a  child,  I  can 
but  question.  Is  there  no  return,  no  invisible 
means  of  communication  when  your  dear  ones  know 
not  what  to  do  ?  Even  your  God,  mother,  has  gone 
from  me.  Long  ago  —  years,  it  seems  —  I  ceased 
to  repeat  the  prayer  you  taught  me.  Forgive  me, 
but  I  cannot  assume  to  believe  what  is  to  me  but 
mockery.  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven." 
Where  is  heaven?  Is  there  a  heaven?  I  might 
remain  upon  my  knees  all  night,  pleading  with  this 
far-distant  God  who  dwells  in  a  mysterious  locality, 
and  receive  no  more  response  than  from  the  insen- 
sible moon. 

God  is  dear  to  me,  mother,  only  because  he  was 
your  God ;  not  for  any  assistance  He  has  ever  given 
me.  As  a  child  I  feared  Him  as  some  evil  genius, 
a  terrible  reality,  who  ever  pursued  me  with  His 
critical  eye ;  allowing  no  misstep  to  go  unpunished, 
judging  me  from  the  heights  of  His  cold  perfec- 
tion, knowing  nothing  of  the  difficulties  of  life. 
And  so,  I  passed  from  rebellion  into  questioning 
and  doubt,  until  now  I  feel  indifferent.  God  is  to 
me  as  some  idol  of  old,  a  legend,  to  which  my  heart 
will  not  give  credence,  church-going  a  key  to  re- 
spectability. I  will  have  none  of  it  —  I  will  make 
my  own  decisions  —  I  will  stand  on  my  own  merits. 

But  why  have  I  wandered  into  this  moralizing 
strain  ?  I  felt  that  I  had  closed  and  locked  this  door 
of  my  mind  forever  —  I  had  thrown  away  the  key 
that  I  might  never  be  tempted  to  take  another  peep. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  3 

It  is  such  aimless  rambling,  circles  within  circles, 
creeds  within  creeds,  an  endless  path. 

I  am  in  such  perplexity  tonight!  Can  it  be  that 
I  am  cherishing  a  Utopian  dream  —  hoping  against 
hope  for  help  that  I  know  no  human  power  can  give 
me ;  for  the  "  still,  small  voice,"  for  which  mother 
so  often  bade  me  listen?  Begone!  I  will  not  be 
so  mesmerized.  It  was  only  self-deception  —  the 
voice  of  her  own  beautiful  spirit  which  she  heard. 

Girlhood  is  an  exquisite  thing,  and  mine  has  been 
rainbow-tinted.  Men  call  me  fair;  many  have 
sought  me  to  travel  life's  highway  with  them  — 
a  highway  seemingly  smooth  and  sunny  —  seeking 
to  fix  upon  me  rose-colored  glasses,  which  we  blind 
women  so  gladly  wear  —  so  beautiful  in  this  dream 
of  love. 

But  of  all  my  suitors  who  has  looked  beyond  my 
fair  skin,  my  glossy  hair,  my  good  teeth,  my  spark- 
ling eyes,  my  lithe  form  ?  Have  I  been  anything  but 
form  to  the  men  who  have  sought  me?  Who  of 
them  all  has  considered  me  a  thinking  creature,  with 
whom  it  would  be  pleasant  to  dwell  in  the  evening 
of  life?  Who  of  them  all  would  have  sought  be- 
neath a  plain  face  for  the  real  me,  the  woman  with 
greater  mental  than  physical  needs  ?  Beauty  appeals 
to  man,  woos  him  and  leads  him  on  as  a  lode-star, 
until  he  cannot  distinguish  the  false  from  the  true, 
but  only  character  holds  his  love.  And  yet,  strange 
anomalies  that  we  are,  while  I  resent  this  physical 
wooing,  it  draws  me  as  the  magnet  draws  the  steel. 


4  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

I  sometimes  feel  like  a  bird  in  a  snare,  and  awake 
to  the  fact  that  there  are  strange  fires  burning  within 
me  —  fires  I  have  no  desire  to  quench ;  but  thus  far 
none  have  satisfied  my  heart.  Why?  Men  of 
wealth,  of  social  position,  have  plead  for  my  hand ; 
the  kind  of  men  whose  attention  woman  values, 
have  been  sent  away,  and  after  my  long  vigil  with 
the  moon  tonight,  I  think  —  yes,  I  am  sure  —  I 
know  why.  It  is  the  call  of  my  sons  and  daugh- 
ters, whom  I  have  promised  to  give  the  very  best 
father  I  can  find.  He  has  been  long  in  coming, 
but  tonight,  reason  tells  me  he  has  arrived.  His 
letter  here  in  my  bosom,  put  there  for  safe  keeping, 
does  not  thrill  me,  but  it  comforts  me,  fills  me  with 
hope  for  the  future,  security. 

This  man  that  I  have  chosen  for  the  father  of  my 
children  has  high  ideals,  fine  intelligence,  a  sense  of 
morality  as  high  as  my  own.  No  doctor's  certificate 
of  purity  needed  by  this  king  of  men  —  it  is  written 
on  face  and  form,  in  voice  and  action  and  atmos- 
phere. That  "  love  is  woman's  whole  existence  " 
has  been  placed  in  memory's  precious  casket  with 
mother's  God!  I  have  waited  long  for  this  pearl 
of  great  price  and  have  concluded  that  it  is  but  an 
ignis  fatuus,  that  vanishes  as  we  approach. 

Then,  why  refuse  this  man  who  is  all  that  I  have 
promised  my  children?  I  will  question  no  longer. 
I  will  give  him  the  answer  he  desires. 

I  am  so  relieved  and  —  yes,  I  believe  I  am  happy 
—  it  means  so  much  to  keep  a  promise. 


CHAPTER  II 

JUNE. 

DONALD  left  me  an  hour  ago.  I  watched  him 
as  he  vanished  down  the  moonlit  path,  his 
shadow  ever  lengthening  until  it  seemed  the  shadow 
of  a  giant;  and  fancy  whispered,  "It  is  a  giant, 
carrying  away  your  freedom."  And  as  I  listened 
until  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  died  away  in  the 
distance,  I  shivered  as  with  cold  —  yet,  the  night  is 
balmy. 

For  an  hour  I  have  sat  pondering,  fighting  this 
sense  of  apprehension,  striving  to  force  my  heart 
to  acknowledge  its  happiness ;  yet,  have  I  failed. 
Donald  is  a  dear  friend,  a  man  who  inspires  con- 
fidence. Our  two  years'  acquaintance,  and  the  close 
companionship  of  late,  is  filled  with  bright  memories 
into  which  no  jarring  element  has  entered.  He  is 
so  strong,  so  capable,  my  ideal  man  —  a  little  ar- 
bitrary at  times,  perhaps  —  so  are  all  forceful  men. 
Our  standards  of  life  are  much  the  same.  We  have 
health,  youth,  intellect  —  what  need  have  we  of 
more?  And  yet  —  why  this  tantalizing  fear,  this 
shrinking  from  personal  contact  ? 

For  I  must  confess,  hard  as  it  seems  —  when  I 
have  promised  to  be  Donald's  wife  —  that  I  shrink 

5 


6  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

from  his  caresses ;  and  when  he  sought  my  lips,  he 
found  them  cold  and  unresponsive,  nor  could  I 
force  the  love-glow  into  them.  He  held  me  from 
him  and  looked  at  me  with  eyes  so  filled  with  love 
and  longing  that  I  could  have  fallen  at  his  feet, 
begging  forgiveness.  Yet,  when  he  drew  me  to 
him  —  because  I  could  not  help  it  —  I  placed  my 
hands  against  his  breast  that  I  might  not  fall  into  a 
closer  embrace.  His  lips  closed  tightly,  his  hands 
fell  from  me,  a  quick  drawn  breath,  a  penetrating 
glance,  then  he  quietly  turned  from  me  and  sauntered 
through  the  open  doorway  out  into  the  moonlit 
garden,  where  I  followed,  abashed  and  a  little 
frightened.  He  soon  put  me  at  ease,  however,  by 
assuming  the  old  friendly  relation.  Not  once  again 
did  he  offer  to  caress  me,  and  I  was  joyous,  happy 
to  be  near  him.  Only  —  when  leaving,  he  looked 
at  me  with  such  pleading,  lovelit  eyes,  that  all  the 
maternal  in  me  was  awakened.  I  raised  my  arms, 
drawing  his  head  to  my  breast,  while  I  pressed  my 
lips  into  his  bonnie  brown  hair.  He  lifted  his  face 
to  mine,  with  such  a  flood  of  love  and  happiness 
radiating  it,  that  again  —  because  I  could  not  help 
it  —  I  withdrew  from  him.  And  his  parting  words, 
"  Remember  you  are  mine  for  always  and  always 
and  always,"  still  ring  in  my  ears  and  I  rebel  and 
let  my  thoughts  rest  in  the  past  rather  than  the 
future. 

But  enough  of  these  dolorous  dumps.     I  have 
promised  to  wed  very  soon,  the  best  man  in  all  the 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  7 

world,  and  this  history  of  my  wooing  is  for  my 
daughter,  so  I  must  give  to  it  her, father's  letter,  the 
dearest,  sweetest  love  letter  that  ever  a  girl  received. 
I  hesitate  to  give  it  to  this  little  book,  even  for  that 
dear  daughter's  eyes. 

"  Dear  little  Lady  of  my  Dreams : 

"  Or  rather,  I  should  say,  dear  little  lady  who 
has  fulfilled  my  dreams  —  dreams  that  I  had  al- 
most despaired  of  ever  realizing,  dreams  of  per- 
fect womanhood.  In  my  thoughts  I  liken  you 
to  a  beautiful,  fragrant  white  rose ;  a  little  thorny 
at  times,  which  only  adds  zest  to  my  desire  to 
possess  you. 

"  You  have  been  a  merry  comrade  in  our  walks 
and  drives,  a  charming  hostess  in  your  parlor, 
but  when  I  have  attempted  to  show  my  heart,  you 
have  become  at  once  the  thorny,  cold  white  rose. 
Yet  I  have  caught  many  glimpses  of  the  fire 
beneath  that  reveals  the  woman  worth  while,  a 
chaste  woman  with  a  heart  of  gold  that  will  warm 
for  one  man  alone,  and  not  -be  frittered  away  in 
foolish  flirtations. 

"  You  are  a  woman  who  will  think  for  herself 
—  no  weakling,  not  one  to  be  chained  to  the  wheel 
of  her  lord's  chariot  and  await  his  pleasure.  You 
will  be  his  equal,  sharing  with  him  his  intellectual 
pursuits,  helping  him  to  grow  into  his  greatest 
possibilities,  demanding  your  share  of  life's  prog- 
ress. 


8  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

"  This  independence,  this  strength  of  character, 
arouses  my  most  profound  admiration,  and  I 
would  not  have  you  otherwise. 

"  But,  manlike,  it  is  the  beautiful  woman  that  I 
love  that  I  desire.  And  the  fact  that  you  have 
favored  me  over  all  your  suitors  these  many 
months  gives  me  courage  to  tell  you  of  my  love, 
and  boldness  to  ask  you  to  be  my  wife. 

"  As  you  have  kept  yourself  sweet  and  true, 
even  so  have  I  lived  a  clean  life,  not  only  for  the 
woman  I  hope  some  day  to  call  '  wife,'  but  for 
the  children  who  will  call  me  "  father."  This  is 
no  boast,  no  spirit  of  egoism,  but  principle,  my 
understanding  of  manhood,  my  duty  to  genera- 
tions unborn. 

"  No  other  woman  has  been  asked  to  share  my 
life.  Your  love  is  so  vital  a  thing  to  me  and  I  am 
so  uncertain  of  you,  that  I  dare  not  risk  a  verbal 
reply  to  my  love.  I  feel  that  I  could  not  stand 
before  you  and  see  your  lips  form  a  denial. 

"  So  often  when  I  have  been  with  you,  when 
you  have  seemed  all  mine,  when  I  could  almost 
read  your  passing  thought,  when  you  drew  me  as 
a  magnet  and  I  could  scarce  resist  taking  you  in 
my  arms  and  telling  you  my  love,  you  seemed  to 
evade  me  —  a  subtle  something  held  me  back. 
Surely  it  cannot  be  that  I  have  resisted  woman's 
charms  all  these  years  to  have  the  love  of  a  life- 
time thrown  back  upon  me. 

"  You  have  love  and  appreciation  of  the  fine 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  9 

things  of  life.  You  believe  in  me,  I  know.  Oh, 
Katheryne,  if  words  could  only  convey  to  you 
what  my  dream  of  a  home  with  you  presiding  — 
what  the  word  '  wife  '  means  to  me !  Can't  you 
find  a  need  in  your  life  for  me,  dearest?  Can't 
you  give  all  I  ask? 

"  Do  not  keep  me  in  suspense.     Any  time  to- 
night your  call  over  the  telephone  will  find  me 

waiting.  „ 

DONALD. 

Dear  Donald,  could  any  girl  resist  such  a  letter, 
refuse  such  a  man ! 


CHAPTER  III 

JUNE. 

ALMOST  a  month  since  I  have  confided  in  my 
little  book.  I  have  been  striving  to  keep  away 
from  introspection.  I  have  lived  out  of  doors 
among  my  flowers  and  pets  —  my  beautiful  flowers 
that  seem  to  lift  their  heads  at  my  coming,  their 
fragrance  rising  to  greet  me,  in  flower  language 
saying,  "  We  welcome  thee,  sweet  mistress,  and 
thank  thee  for  thy  tender,  watchful  care." 

Dear  Special  Friend,  walking  with  me  in  my 
garden  yesterday,  looking  into  the  heart  of  a  glow- 
ing rose,  said :  "  God's  smile."  I  thought,  "  What 
nonsense ;  they  are  my  smiles,  if  any  one's.  I  pre- 
pared the  ground,  I  planted  the  seeds  and  I  have 
cultivated  and  watered,  guarding  carefully  the  ten- 
der plants  until  they  could  care  for  themselves ; " 
but  I  said  nothing,  for  she  already  regards  me  as  a 
heathen. 

I  so  often  feel  Margaret's  concern  for  what  she 
terms  my  materialism.  But  I  cannot  see  a  logical 
foundation  for  her  beliefs;  she  will  unfold  her 
philosophy  to  me  as  long  as  I  will  listen,  but  she 
will  not  argue  with  me  —  says  "  argument  leads  to 

10 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  11 

antagonism  and  strife."  She  quotes  Christ's  say- 
ings as  though  they  were  as  applicable  today  as  when 
he  lived  and  taught  by  precept  and  example  in 
Galilee.  She  recognizes  no  chance  in  life  —  says 
"  we  are  masters  of  our  lives,  that  all  evil  is  unreal 
and,  therefore,  to  be  overcome."  If  she  were  not  so 
dear  I  would  sometimes  find  her  tiresome,  with  her 
positive  assertions.  She  was  mother's  young  friend, 
my  "  Dear  Special  Friend,"  in  child  parlance,  and 
since  mother's  going,  has  taken  me  to  her  heart  as 
her  own.  She  is  the  perfect  friend,  but  so  vision- 
ary —  more  mesmerized  than  the  dear  mumsie ;  goes 
far  beyond  mother's  wildest  dreams  of  what  God 
can  do.  She  does  not  believe;  she  knows.  I  find 
it  hard  to  be  patient,  at  times. 

When  I  told  her  about  Donald  and  myself  she 
was  so  pleased,  for  she  considers  Donald  of  great 
worth.  She  clasped  my  hands  and  in  her  earnest 
voice,  said,  "  If  only  you  were  taking  God  into  the 
home,  I  would  have  no  fear  for  you,"  —  just  as 
though  He  could  order  the  household  and  keep  the 
hearth  fires  bright.  Strange  how  deluded  some  peo- 
ple are ! 

I  am  writing  in  my  garden  today,  seated  on  a 
stone  bench  under  the  rose  arbor.  This  bench  is 
one  of  my  treasures;  its  gray  tones  harmonizing 
with  the  greens,  adds  an  artistic  touch  to  my  garden 
parlor.  I  had  often  complained  that  my  books  and 
writing  material  must  be  carried  back  and  forth 
from  house  to  garden,  and  vice  versa,  as  I  could 


12  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

plan  no  safe  place  to  store  them  from  the  weather ; 
and  then,  too,  if  I  chanced  to  wish  to  remain  there 
without  planning,  I  must  make  an  extra  trip  for  my 
books.  On  my  return  from  an  absence  of  some 
weeks  last  summer,  I  found  this  triangular  bench  in 
the  most  sheltered  corner  of  my  arbor  —  Donald 
had  planned  it  and  assisted  Mike  in  its  construction. 
It  is  built  of  small  cobble-stones,  made  nice  and 
broad,  with  a  back  rising  just  the  right  height  for 
my  elbow,  when  I  wish  to  lean  back  and  meditate ; 
to  this  was  added  a  hollow,  triangular  stone  table, 
with  thick  cement  floor  and  top,  with  a  cunning 
heavy  oak  door  in  the  side ;  the  table  is  built  just  the 
right  distance  from  the  bench  —  even  little  alcoves 
for  my  feet  under  the  cement  floor.  Here  I  could 
store  my  pillows,  my  books  and  tea-urn,  my  supply 
of  wafers  and  sweets  to  nibble  at,  and  to  serve  my 
friends  when  they  chanced  my  way;  everything 
snug  and  secure  from  the  weather,  and  the  tiny  gold 
key  on  the  chain  about  my  neck.  This  dear  arbor 
that  dates  back  to  mother's  bridal  days!  Here 
mother  sat  with  her  sewing  in  the  days  before  I  was 
born.  I  think  she  must  have  woven  the  fragrance 
of  roses  into  my  life  —  I  love  them  so. 

Father  left  us  when  I  was  a  wee  tot  and  the  roses 
and  I  grew  up  together,  with  the  sad  little  mother 
always  hovering  near. 

My  faithful  collie  lies  at  my  feet,  his  tender,  loyal 
brown  eyes  fixed  upon  me,  and  his  fluffy,  yellow 
tail  ready  to  respond  to  my  slightest  move.  I  often 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  13 

think  if  we  could  be  as  true  to  friends,  as  unselfish 
with  each  other  as  our  faithful  dog  friends,  what  a 
changed  old  world  this  would  be. 

I  stoop  to  pat  Jack's  head,  at  which  my  beautiful 
Topsy  stretches  herself,  licks  a  few  stray  hairs  into 
place  and,  with  stately  tread,  leaves  her  luxurious 
couch  —  a  pillow  at  my  side  —  and  crowds  herself 
under  my  arm.  She  is  jealous  to  the  core,  and 
selfish,  as  all  her  kind.  Jack,  with  a  look  of  con- 
tempt, sinks  at  my  feet  and  pretends  to  be  asleep. 

Topsy  always  reminds  me  of  a  pretty,  vain 
woman,  thinking  only  of  herself,  of  her  well- 
groomed  person,  of  her  dainty  feet  —  always  of  her 
own  comfort,  of  what  she  can  get  —  never  of  what 
she  can  give. 

Just  outside  my  arbor  is  the  aquarium,  surround- 
ed by  ferns,  with  lily  pads  floating  on  its  surface. 
A  tap  on  the  basin  brings  the  fish  in  expectation 
of  food,  blowing  bubbles  —  from  their  tiny  mouths. 
I  love  to  watch  them  playing  —  living,  I  suppose 
they  would  call  it.  This,  too,  was  a  gift  from  my 
young  father  to  mother,  for  they  loved  to  live  in 
the  open. 

When  father  left  us  so  suddenly  years  ago,  we 
found,  when  all  was  over,  that  only  this  old  house 
and  garden,  with  a  small  annuity,  remained  to  us ; 
but  with  careful  management,  it  has  given  me  my 
education  and  supplied  all  my  needs  for  a  simple 
life,  which  is  to  me  the  perfect  life,  thanks  to  the 
heritage  of  my  parents.  My  garden  sufficed  for  the 


14  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

lack  of  many  things,  and  Sarah,  my  dear  old  house- 
keeper, has  been  faithful  and  tended  me  all  the 
years. 

My  garden  is  my  workshop  as  well  as  playground. 
Here  I  feel  near  to  mother,  among  the  flowers,  so 
many  of  them  planted  by  her  own  hand  and  which 
have  grown  so  luxurious  with  the  passing  years. 
As  I  sit  here  today,  I  feel  retrospective,  a  desire  to 
cling  to  the  past  and  hold  at  bay  my  rapidly  ap- 
proaching future.  In  the  past  month,  one  day  has 
been  much  the  same  as  another ;  Donald  has  been 
absorbed  with  an  important  case,  having  little  time 
or  thought  to  give  to  anything  else. 

On  Sundays  we  have  tramped  through  nearby 
forests,  or  over  the  distant  hills,  a  walk  often  of 
twenty  miles.  Donald  is  a  great  lover  of  horses 
and  frequently  brings  a  mount  for  me,  when  we  ride 
through  the  dappled  forest  paths  and  on  to  the  river 
beyond,  through  country  lanes  and  over  rough  high- 
ways unfrequented  by  motors.  But  more  often, 
when  we  have  an  entire  day,  we  prefer  tramping. 

Observation  of  our  highways  and  byways  causes 
one  to  conclude  that  walking  has  passed  into  the 
list  of  lost  arts.  We  have  lost  sight  of  the  pleasures 
and  knowledge  acquired  by  the  pedestrian.  Only 
a  foot-passenger  knows  the  habitat  of  plant  and 
animal,  for  only  a  walker  can  pause  at  will  to  in- 
vestigate the  mysteries  by  the  wayside  —  the  nest 
of  an  unfamiliar  bird  fluttering  from  the  bushes 
just  beyond  the  fence;  to  ramble  off  the  beaten 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  15 

track;  to  find  an  entrance  through  the  hedge  and 
down  through  the  pasture  to  the  lily  pond  under 
the  willows  overhanging  the  little  stream,  or  to  pluck 
the  long-stemmed,  black-eyed  Susans  beckoning  to 
us  from  the  low-lying  meadow  land  beyond  the 
deep  gulch,  that  none  but  the  experienced  pedestrian 
knows  how  to  surmount. 

And  when  returning  in  the  early  twilight,  weary 
with  the  tramping  over  many  miles,  hungry,  and 
laden  with  the  spoils  nature  provides  for  the  seeker, 
you  pause  to  rest  on  the  summit  of  some  hill,  perched 
upon  the  highest  point  that  you  may  catch  the  last 
gleams  of  light  and  gain  a  new  view  of  the  country- 
side in  the  purple  glow ;  at  peace  with  yourself  and 
all  mankind,  your  mind  filled  with  spicy  odors  and 
the  songs  of  birds,  of  woodland  visits  and  meadow 
stretches,  of  alluring  white  road,  reaching  miles 
and  miles  beyond,  ribboning  the  hills  and  plains ;  with 
neat  farm  nouses  speaking  of  home  comfort  and 
family  cheer  dotting  the  wayside.  As  you  take  a 
mental  inventory  of  all  this  store  of  knowledge  and 
beauty,  you  feel  a  new  vigor  springing  up  within 
you,  your  heart  sings  for  joy  and  you  realize  it  is 
good  to  be  alive  and  an  understanding  part  of  na- 
ture. 

If  at  such  a  time,  too  weary  to  talk,  you  rest  your 
elbows  upon  your  knees  and  your  head  upon  your 
hands,  sort  of  drowsy  like  and  become  a  part  of  the 
landscape,  many  a  scene  will  be  enacted  before  you 
by  our  friends  in  feathers  and  fur. 


16  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

As  Donald  and  I  so  rested  last  Sunday,  we 
watched  a  night-hawk  teaching  her  awkward  gray 
hawklets  to  fly.  She  had  evidently  taken  the  hour 
when  the  night  silence  draws  nigh  with  nothing  to 
detract  from  her  instruction,  so  patiently  and  forci- 
bly given ;  plainly  a  first  lesson,  with  little  progress 
made.  She  would  swoop  down  upon  them  as  though 
she  would  carry  them  up  in  her  beak,  then  suspend 
herself  just  above  the  surface,  as  though  saying: 
"  See  how  easy  it  is  to  fly ;"  then  fly  far  above  them 
as  though  illustrating  the  pleasure  and  freedom  of 
flying.  Her  efforts  were  tireless  and  when  at  last 
we  arose  to  go,  her  warning  call  flattened  her  young 
to  the  ground  where  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish 
them  from  the  rocky,  gray  surface,  while  she  soared 
away  into  the  sky  far  above  our  heads,  harshly 
reproving  us  for  interrupting  her  maternal  duties. 

The  human  element,  as  well,  of  valley  and  hill 
is  only  realized  by  the  tramper.  The  red  brick 
house  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  surrounded  by  sweet- 
smelling,  up-standing  pines,  with  its  apple  orchard 
reaching  to  the  very  door  in  the  rear,  whose  wealth 
of  pink-tipped  blossoms  —  if  you  chance  that  way 
in  spring  —  carries  you  into  fairyland,  grips  you 
and  suspends  your  breath  with  its  intense,  un- 
conscious beauty;  and,  perhaps,  you  pause  to  chat 
with  the  owner  at  the  gate,  or  to  drink  the  fresh, 
foamy  buttermilk  so  hospitably  offered  by  the 
farmer's  wife,  the  atmosphere  breathing  of  toil  and 
well-earned  rest,  of  contentment  and  peace.  You 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  17 

forget  for  the  moment  the  feverish  unrest  of  the 
streets  and  the  problems  awaiting  your  return. 

Or,  perchance,  on  Sunday  morning,  you  pass  the 
white  country  church,  with  its  fringe  of  horses  and 
vehicles  which  have  brought  their  loads  of  men, 
women  and  children  for  the  pleasures  of  their  one 
day  of  rest,  to  meet  their  neighbors,  to  talk  over  the 
crop  prospects,  the  gardens,  the  best  breed  of  hens, 
and  all  the  varied  things  with  which  they  deal  who 
live  near  to  nature ;  to  listen  to  the  soothing  tones  of 
the  organ  and  a  word  of  cheer  from  the  minister, 
if  his  disposition  be  one  that  radiates  sunshine.  And 
as  you  proceed,  you  pass  a  little  schoolhouse,  a  store 
at  the  cross-roads,  a  sawmill,  silent  and  decaying 
because  its  commercial  teeth  have  converted  into 
lumber  all  the  trees  worth  while.  Then  just  at  the 
turn  of  the  road,  a  long,  low  rambling  board  house, 
whose  style  and  weather-beaten  sides  proclaim  years 
of  habitation,  while  just  at  the  foot  of  the  slope  is 
the  gray  stone  spring  house,  fragrant  with  mint ;  and 
if  you  are  one  of  the  favored  walkers,  who  finds  his 
way  to  the  heart  of  the  country  folks  with  the 
golden  key  of  understanding  of  nature's  joys,  you 
may  peep  into  this  cool  retreat,  perchance  be  served 
with  a  draught  of  the  delicious  white  beverage  from 
one  of  the  brown  crocks  around  which  the  water 
continually  swirls  and  gurgles  its  soft  refrain. 

Compare  these  pleasures  with  the  feverish  charm 
of  the  rushing  motorist,  gliding  so  rapidly  from  one 
scene  to  another,  past  multitudes  of  objects  but  half 


18  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

conceived,  like  a  "  bird's  eye  view  "  of  a  city,  with 
no  realization  of  the  beauty  and  interest  contained 
therein,  until  one  is  exhilarated  to  exhaustion  and  the 
mind  deadened  to  impression  of  scene.  Not  that  I 
would  banish  from  our  civilization  so  useful  an  ad- 
junct as  the  motor,  but  I  would  prevent  it  from 
making  of  our  limbs  simply  pedestals  upon  which  to 
stand,  and  add  one  more  attraction  to  woo  the  idle 
woman  into  neurasthenia,  and  that  strangest  of 
anomalies  —  the  rest  cure  —  the  ills  of  an  aimless 
life  cured  by  more  nothingness. 

Donald  says  Nature  in  all  her  moods  gives  him 
courage  and  inspiration,  courage  to  fight  the  mon- 
strous evils  that  constantly  confront  one  in  the  city 
streets  and  byways  and  trail  their  slimy  lengths 
through  a  lawyer's  office,  pleading  with  their  bleary, 
sin-filled  eyes  to  be  covered  over  with  the  mantle  of 
charity,  and  pointing  with  their  stinging  tails  to 
glittering  piles  of  gold  as  recompense  for  this  pro- 
tection. Inspiration  to  know  subtle  ways  that  are 
right  with  which  to  meet  and  overcome  these  horrors 
that  are  gnawing  at  the  vitals  of  our  civilization ; 
and,  as  on  a  hot,  choking,  suffering  day,  a  sharp 
electric  storm  is  needed  to  clear  the  atmosphere  and 
make  breathing  and  living  sweet,  "  So,"  he  says,  "  is 
a  holocaust  of  reform  and  overturning  necessary  to 
make  living  safe  and  sane." 

Donald  has  many  visions  of  better  government, 
"  visions,"  he  says,  "  which  are  founded  on  faith  in 
humanity,  without  which  no  advancement  is  sue- 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  19 

cess."  He  thinks  that  only  as  we  live  a  life  of  serv- 
ice, as  we  strive  to  better  conditions  and  help  our 
fellow-man,  do  we  become  worthy  citizens.  And 
with  his  dreams  he  is  practical  and  patient.  He  has 
the  genius  to  make  the  entering  wedge,  the  tact  to 
insert  it  gently  and  the  patience  to  watch  and  wait, 
with  now  and  then  a  tap  until  the  severing  is  made, 
and  the  two  parts,  the  good  and  the  evil,  stand  apart 
in  battle  array.  Then  he  hesitates  no  longer  but 
rushes  into  the  fray,  ready  to  battle  for  the  right, 
and  seldom  does  he  fail. 

Has  his  wooing  been  the  same?  As  I  write,  the 
conviction  comes  upon  me  that  it  has.  I  don't  be- 
lieve that  I  could  have  put  him  out  of  my  life  after 
he  realized  that  I  was  the  woman  he  desired  for  a 
wife.  He  surrounded  me  with  a  wall  of  emotion, 
of  intense  affection,  that  I  was  made  to  feel  was  his 
very  life.  I  knew  it  was  —  that  was  the  man. 

It  is  easier  to  yield  than  to  resist,  and  yet  the 
yielding  does  not  bring  me  happiness.  I  am  rest- 
less. I  am  feverish.  I  am  ill  at  ease.  Always  and 
always  there  is  a  feeling  of  a  greater  demand  than  I 
can  give.  I  feel  the  force  of  a  dominating  spirit 
that  sways  me,  and  I  fear. 


CHAPTER  IV 

JULY. 

WE  had  a  most  delightful  celebration  yesterday 
in  my  garden  —  a  party  of  friends  from  the 
City  came  out  to  spend  the  day  with  me  and  my 
flowers.  Nothing  pleases  my  old  housekeeper  quite 
so  much  as  a  houseful  of  guests  to  feed  and  make 
comfortable ;  she  and  Jack  are  in  their  element  at 
such  times.  Jack  goes  about  with  his  yellow  plume 
in  perpetual  motion,  distributing  his  smiles  in  an 
impartial  manner,  like  the  genial  host  that  he  is. 
But  Topsy,  resenting  any  intrustion  on  her  personal 
comfort,  seeks  her  high  perch,  a  sunny  window, 
which  she  frequents  for  warmth  and  seclusion,  and 
from  the  heights,  like  an  empty-headed  beauty,  looks 
down  with  disdain  and  suspicion  on  those  below. 

How  often  "  the  most  sacred  shrine  of  our  soul  is 
invaded,  dominated,  profaned  "  by  the  outer  world, 
even  by  our  world  of  friends.  Donald  and  I  furn- 
ished much  amusement.  We  were  made  the  butt 
of  all  the  practical  jokes,  just  because  we  chanced 
to  be  the  latest  pledged  to  marriage. 

Why  do  we  cling  to  these  barbarous  customs 
that  have  come  down  to  us  from  the  ages  when 
our  ancestors  were  emerging  from  heathenism  — 

20 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  21 

treating  a  man  and  a  maid  like  toys,  like  vaudeville 
actors,  simply  because  they  have  announced  their 
intention  of  spending  the  rest  of  their  lives  to- 
gether, around  a  sacred  new  hearth  fire  called  home  ? 
Just  when  they  are  tingling  with  new  emotions, 
with  tenderness  of  the  new  relation  and  all  it  means, 
lifted  beyond  the  material  into  a  land  of  beautiful 
visions,  where  they  two,  swayed  by  this  divine  pas- 
sion, will  build  a  world  of  their  own,  and  from  this 
strong  citadel,  send  out  an  influence  that  will  better 
humanity?  Into  this  dream  of  sweetness  and 
beauty  and  helpfulness  are  constantly  hurled  jibes 
and  rude  jests,  coarsely  suggesting  that  marriage  is 
only  a  union  of  bodies.  Is  it  strange  that  marriage 
is  so  often  a  mockery  ? 

We  had  a  grand  display  of  fireworks  in  the  eve- 
ning; so  brilliant  were  we,  in  fact,  that  we  drove 
Jack  into  his  place  of  concealment,  under  the  porch, 
from  which  he  came  later  with  every  sign  of  intense 
humility,  his  eyes  mutely  begging  my  pardon  for 
deserting  me  in  time  of  peril. 

Dear  Special  Friend  came  in  during  the  evening 
to  add  dignity  to  the  occasion.  We  all  love  to  have 
her  with  us ;  she  carries  such  an  atmosphere  of 
peace  and  joyousness ;  she  seems  to  have  an  inward 
fountain  of  sweetness  and  wisdom  into  which  she 
dips  at  will  and  scatters  broadcast,  as  a  flower  its 
fragrance. 

Donald  remained  after  the  others  had  gone  and  we 
had  our  first  snarl.  I  will  not  call  it  a  quarrel  —  I 


22  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

do  not  think  Donald  and  I  will  ever  stoop  to  quarrel. 
I  was  irritated  by  his  assumption  of  ownership  — 
an  "  all  mine  "  attitude ;  and  he  was  irritated  by  my 
kindness  to  "  Billy."  Dear  old  Billy,  the  best  friend 
a  girl  ever  had.  He  is  years  older  than  I  and  has 
always  been  my  authority  on  all  things.  I  just  as 
naturally  refer  to  him  as  the  sunflower  looks  at  the 
sun.  He  is  one  of  the  few  men  with  whom  a  girl 
may  be  on  friendly  terms,  knowing  he  will  not  ask 
to  be  a  lover.  He  has  been  loyal  to  a  little  lonely 
grave  in  the  mountains  for  the  past  twenty  years, 
and  ever  since  he  opened  this  chapter  of  his  life  for 
me  to  read  I  have  felt  very  near  to  him,  and  have 
endeavored  to  provide  him  with  home  comforts. 
He  calls  me  "  Heartsease,"  I  think,  chiefly  because 
I  allow  him  to  sit  for  hours  in  my  parlor  or  garden 
smoking,  reading  or  thinking,  without  uttering  a 
word  —  allow  him  to  wholly  forget  my  presence. 

And  tonight  —  that  silly  Donald  —  just  because, 
in  the  exhilaration  of  the  crowd  and  the  joyousness 
of  us  all,  I  stood  on  tiptoe  and  pretended  to  kiss 
Billy  good  night  —  anyone  could  see  it  was  a  farce 
—  but  Donald  was  angry,  I  never  thought  of  my 
new  relation  until,  looking  up,  I  caught  the  sudden 
glitter  in  Donald's  eyes,  and  then  —  I  was  angry. 
They  all  know  what  chums  Billy  and  I  are. 

After  they  were  all  gone  Donald  sat  there  without 
saying  a  word,  just  to  show  me  his  displeasure; 
and  I  sat  and  hummed,  just  to  show  him  that  I  didn't 
care.  But  I  never  can  keep  quiet  long  —  I'm  always 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  23 

putting  myself  on  record  and,  consequently,  at  a  dis- 
advantage. Instead  of  sitting  quietly  until  he 
apologized,  I  threw  a  rose  at  him.  He  never  smiled, 
but  in  a  tragic  way,  said :  "  Come  here,  Katheryne," 
and  I,  like  a  naughty  child,  went,  standing  humbly 
before  him.  He  held  my  hands  a  moment,  then 
drew  me  convulsively  to  him,  almost  with  a  sob: 
"  Oh,  darling,  darling,  don't  play  with  me ;  I  can't 
endure  it." 

"  Play  with  you,  goosie,"  I  said,  "  why,  you  old 
innocent,  Billy  is  the  best  friend  I  have ;  he  is  to  be 
God-father  to  all  our  children ;  he  has  asked  that 
privilege." 

He  could  not  help  smiling  at  this  nonsense  and 
manifesting  a  little  humility  for  his  jealousy.  "  I 
will  try  to  be  a  little  less  selfish,  dear,  but  I  may 
as  well  confess  that  I  have  always  felt  a  little  sense 
of  envy  of  Billy's  relation  with  you  and  I  still  feel 
so  uncertain  of  you  that  to  see  another  man  touch 
you  maddens  me.  We  men  are  still  very  much  like 
the  beasts  of  the  forest,  ready  to  battle  for  the 
woman  we  have  chosen  for  our  mate.  Forgive  me, 
Katheryne,  dear." 

"  On  one  condition,"  I  replied. 

"  Anything,  Katheryne,  anything  to  gain  absolu- 
tion, only  make  it  easy ;  I'm  not  very  strong  where 
you  are  concerned." 

"  Then  promise  me,  that  you  will  never  again 
question  my  attitude  toward  Billy;  he  has  been  my 
mentor  and  dear  friend  too  long  to  give  him  the 


24  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

cold  shoulder  now.  Promise,  Donald,  promise  me 
that  you  will  hereafter  hold  your  peace  where  he  is 
concerned." 

"  I  won't  promise,  Katheryne,  but  I'll  try.  Re- 
member I'm  only  a  weak  man  and  be  merciful !  " 

"  You  are  a  blind  man,  I  know,"  I  replied,  "  but 
as  you  are  my  man  I  will  be  lenient,  and  let  me  re- 
mind you  that  if  you  reach  home  before  the  moon 
disappears,  you  will  have  to  hasten." 

"  Goodnight,  then,  Dear  Heart,  'till  tomorrow," 
he  said. 

"  And  tomorrow  is  here,"  I  replied,  as  the  clock 
chimed  out  its  slow,  melodious  twelve  strokes. 

THIS  compelling,  intense  love  —  can  I  satisfy  it? 
I  am  proud  to  have  inspired  such  a  love  from  such  a 
man,  but  will  my  calmer  affection  fill  his  life  and 
dreams?  Will  his  love  remain  tender  when  not  re- 
turned in  kind?  This  perplexity,  this  questioning 
makes  my  head  dizzy  and  my  heart  sick  with  dire 
foreboding. 


INTERMEZZO 

"  Let  me  not  to  the  marriage  of  true  minds 
Admit  impediments ;  love  is  not  love 
Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds." 


CHAPTER  V 

JULY. 

DONALD  telephoned  me  this  morning  early  that 
he  had  been  called  to  a  distant  city  on  business 
and  could  not  come  out  even  to  say  goodbye.  There 
was  such  passionate  regret  in  his  voice  when  he  said 
this  that  I  sent  him  a  kiss  over  the  'phone.  He  said 
that  my  kisses  were  such  rare  things  that  he  would 
prize  one  which  flew  through  the  air,  even.  I  am  to 
write  every  day,  which,  he  said,  would  be  some 
compensation  for  the  two  weeks'  absence  —  that  he 
would  have  actual  words  from  my  pen  to  look  at 
again  and  again,  which  would  be  better  than  "  just 
memories." 

Donald's  letters  will  be  all  they  should  be,  I  know. 
I  rather  think  I  shall  enjoy  them  more  than  Donald, 
himself.  It  was  almost  with  a  sense  of  relief  that 
I  hung  up  the  receiver.  Two  whole  weeks  to  my- 
self—  to  do  just  as  I  please!  Not  but  that  I 
always  do  as  I  think  best,  but  someway,  of  late,  a 
feeling  has  crept  in  that  I  hardly  understand,  that  I 
cannot  name ;  fear  seems  too  harsh  a  word  to  use, 
yet  the  feeling  is  akin  to  it.  Donald  has  such 
austere  ideals,  he  seems  to  weigh  each  word.  I  have 

27 


28  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

observed  that  when  he  speaks  people  always  listen 
—  his  words  bear  weight ;  while  I  so  often  speak 
impulsively.  I  love  to  toss  a  subject  back  and  forth 
to  see  how  much  batting  it  will  stand,  before  it  dis- 
covers itself  either  hollow,  or  reveals  the  golden 
kernel  within.  Naturally  this  handling  of  a  topic 
brings  forth  many  thoughtless  remarks  of  which  I 
begin  to  feel  Donald's  mental  criticism.  He  feels 
that  one  should  think  a  subject  out  quietly  by  him- 
self. But  why  try  to  explain  what  I  do  not  under- 
stand myself !  I  only  know  there  is  a  mental  jar 
that  seems  to  have  developed  since  our  engagement. 
There  is  a  big  joyous  side  to  my  nature ;  I  love  sun- 
shine and  sunny  people ;  I  love  those  about  me  who 
draw  me  out,  as  the  sun  draws  the  blossom  from  the 
bud.  Oh,  well,  if  it  is  true  that  man  and  woman 
are  required  to  make  a  perfect  whole,  perhaps 
Donald  is  just  the  balance  wheel  I  need! 

BILLY  came  out  this  afternoon,  the  dear  fellow, 
that  he  is  —  thought  I  might  be  lonely  with  Donald 
away.  As  usual  in  pleasant  weather,  we  were  sit- 
ting in  my  arbor,  I  on  my  favorite  stone  bench  with 
a  book,  with  Topsy  curled  up  at  my  side;  Jack,  of 
course,  at  my  feet;  Billy  in  a  chair  near  by  smok- 
ing, and  I,  supposed,  reading.  By  one  of  those 
strange,  telepathic  signs,  I  looked  up  to  find  Billy's 
eyes  fixed  upon  me.  As  he  was  just  in  line  with 
Jack,  I  could  but  observe  that  both  had  the  same 
devotion,  loyalty  and  love  in  their  glance. 


29 


Still  steadily  looking  at  me,  he  said  abruptly, 
"  Katheryne,  do  you  love  Donald  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  saucy  fellow,"  I  cried,  springing  from 
my  bench  and  overturning  Topsy  in  my  haste,  "  I 
have  a  great  mind  to  hurl  this  book  at  you !  How 
dare  you  ask  such  a  question  of  an  engaged  young 
woman?"  And  I  stretched  myself  to  my  full 
height  and  stood  with  a  dignified  air  before  him. 

"  I  am  not  jesting,  Katheryne,"  he  said,  still  with 
that  steady,  devoted  gaze  straight  into  my  eyes ; 
"  you  well  know  I  would  not  use  levity  on  such  a 
subject;  this  is  a  serious  question,  dear,  and  I  want 
the  truth." 

"  Oh,  Billy,  even  you  haven't  the  right  to  ask  that 
question,"  I  pleaded,  as  I  dropped  down  at  his  knee. 
He  laid  his  hand,  oh  so  tenderly,  on  my  head : 

"  I  have  wanted  to  talk  to  you  for  sometime, 
Heartsease,  but  have  hardly  known  how  to  begin,  or 
what  to  say.  You  and  I  have  talked  of  many  things. 
I  am  almost  old  enough  to  be  your  father,  and  being 
alone,  as  you  are,  you  have  appealed  to  me  and  in 
our  talks  I  have  tried  to  instruct  you  as  I  would  a 
daughter.  With  all  your  years,  you  are  still  a  child 
at  heart.  You  have  always  seemed  to  live  above 
the  sordid  things  of  life.  I  have  always  admired 
the  confidence  you  possessed  in  your  own  ability, 
your  manner  of  taking  care  of  yourself,  your  faith 
in  humanity.  You  possess  these  gifts  because  you 
have  lived  close  to  nature  and  have  not  wasted  your 
heart  on  frivolities ;  but  these  very  conditions  might 


30  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

lead  you-  astray  in  your  marriage.  I  would  keep 
you  always  as  you  are,  dear ;  I  would  save  you  from 
disillusionment,  if  possible." 

My  eyes  opened  wide  in  surprise.  "  Why,  Billy," 
I  exclaimed  in  wonder,  "  who  is  borrowing  trouble 
now !  You  are  not  in  the  habit  of  building  up  stravv 
men  just  for  the  pleasure  of  knocking  them  down. 
Where  have  you  found  this  dream  fabric  out  of 
which  to  weave  so  unpleasant  a  vision  ?  " 

He  gave  me  no  answering  smile,  but  with  his 
earnest  eyes  still  fixed  upon  my  face,  continued: 
"  You  and  I  have  often  discussed  Eugenics, 
Katheryne.  I  never  was  much  impressed  with 
the  doctrine  myself;  there  are  some  truths  in  its 
teaching  that  it  would  be  well  to  ponder,  but  when 
it  is  carried  to  the  extent  that  the  old  Greeks 
practiced  of  mating  for  physical  perfection,  we  can- 
not measure  the  harm  it  is  doing  —  the  crippling  of 
generations  unborn  —  and,  Katheryne,  I  have  ob- 
served that  you  have  taken  the  science  of  Engenics 
—  if  it  is  a  science  —  in  a  very  serious  way." 

"  How  could  I  help  it,"  I  exclaimed,  "  after  watch- 
ing the  wizard  next  door !  He  makes  of  his  flowers 
just  what  he  pleases,  changes  their  form,  their  color, 
their  character;  lifts  a  humble  little  nothing  of  a 
plant  that  has  no  standing  whatever  in  the  flower 
world  into  a  place  of  dignity,  and  almost  of  neces- 
sity, in  the  garden.  To  say  nothing  of  the  great 
strides  of  progress  made  in  the  animal  kingdom  — 
and  are  we  not  animals  ?  " 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  31 

"  Yes,"  Billy  said,  with  twinkling  eyes,  "  but 
thinking  animals.  In  the  betterment  of  the  human 
race  we  are  not  working  for  avoirdupois  or  color 
or  speed  or  production ;  no,  nor  are  we  striving  for 
greater  beauty  or  fragrance,  as  in  the  flower  world ; 
or  for  greater  utility  as  in  the  seedless  fruits ;  but 
for  well  balanced  men  and  women,  men  and  women 
whose  brain  and  heart  work  in  unison,  and  work  for 
the  brotherhood  of  man.  The  perfect  physique,  the 
external  things,  will  right  themselves  when  the  men- 
tality is  perfectly  adjusted." 

"  And  now,  Katheryne,  we  come  back  to  our  start- 
ing point.  I  do  not  wish  to  force  your  confidence, 
nor  hurt  you  —  you  well  know  that,  dear — "  as  I 
arose  and  turned  my  back  upon  him  —  "  don't  turn 
from  me ;  I  have  so  much  I  want  to  say  to  you  — 
I  know  I'm  awkward  about  it ;"  —  here  Jack  thrust 
his  head  under  my  hand,  knowing  I  was  troubled  — 
"  but  I'm  only  a  lonely  old  bachelor,"  —  he  knew  I 
could  not  resist  that,  and  I  returned  to  my  place  at 
his  knee. 

"  You  know,  Katheryne,  you  have  thought  so 
seriously  of  the  children  you  are  destined  to  bear, 
of  the  great  responsibility  of  motherhood,  that  I 
fear,  sometimes,  you  forget  your  own  rights;  and 
dare  I  say  it,  child,  the  rights  of  their  father.  You 
must  never  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  a  father  and 
mother  have  their  own  particular  duties  to  perform, 
their  service  to  humanity  to  render,  wholly  aside 
from  bringing  new  lives  into  the  world,  and  this 


t 


32  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

service  can  only  be  rendered  in  its  entirety  when 
husband  and  wife  are  working  in  perfect  harmony. 
Perfect  children  will  come  only  with  mental  har- 
mony. And,  dear,  this  condition  exists  only  when 
both  are  swayed  by  an  undying  love,  the  love  that 
has  more  of  tenderness  than  thought  of  self." 

"  Oh,  Billy,"  I  broke  in,  "  you  make  me  a  little 
tired;  my  head  buzzes  and  aches." 

"  Be  patient  yet  a  little  longer,  dear,  for  I  have 
not  yet  told  you  all  that  I  started  to  say  and  it  will 
lay  heavy  on  my  conscience  if  left  unsaid.  I  have 
watched  you  and  Donald  since  you  announced  your 
engagement,  and  Donald,  as  you  know,  is  to  me  one 
of  God's  noblemen,  the  finest  young  fellow  I  have 
ever  known ;  and  there  is  no  question  of  his  love  for 
you.  He  is  carried  away  by  your  beauty,  your 
sweetness,  your  charm  of  homemaking  —  but,  is  it 
the  same  with  you,  Katheryne?  No,  don't  run 
away.  I  must  make  you  think.  Are  your  tempera- 
ments suited  to  each  other?  Do  you  love  him  as 
much  as  you  are  capable  of  loving?  Don't  do 
Donald  the  injustice  of  giving  him  half  a  woman 
and  thus  spoil  all  your  beautiful  plans  for  life." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know ;  I  don't  know,"  I  sobbed,  "  but 
I  won't  listen  any  more ;"  and  I  rushed  to  the  house 
with  my  hands  over  my  ears  and  into  my  room  and 
locked  the  door,  where,  flinging  myself  upon  my  bed, 
I  sobbed  and  sobbed,  angry  with  Billy  and  Donald 
and  myself,  and  with  the  feeling  that  the  world 
had  all  gone  wrong  and  I  knew  of  no  way  to  read- 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  33 

just  it.  Why  should  Billy  add  this  weight  to  my 
perplexities  ?  I  finally  fell  into  a  fitful  sleep,  only  to 
start  into  life  again  with  a  raging  headache. 

Here,  Dear  Special  Friend  came  knocking  at  my 
door.  I  could  not  bar  her  out ;  I  rose  to  admit  her. 
She  did  not  remark  upon  my  distressed  face,  but 
like  the  wizard  that  she  is,  bade  me  lie  down  again ; 
seating  herself  beside  me,  she  held  my  hand  and 
gave  me  of  her  own  particular  wisdom  until  I  was 
soothed,  my  headache  gone  and  I  could  again  see 
some  brightness  in  life.  And  —  of  course,  a  prom- 
ise made  must  be  kept. 


CHAPTER  VI 

JULY. 

I  AWAKENED  this  morning  to  an  indigo  day; 
my  sky  is  overcast;  great,  black  overhanging 
clouds  obscure  the  brightness.  I  am  sure  this  cloud 
is  without  a  silver  lining,  and  I  am  also  sure  that  the 
sun  staid  in  China  last  night.  Poor  heathen,  they 
need  it !  Yet,  why  should  I  say  that  ?  They  are  no 
more  heathen  than  are  we  —  they  are  consistent,  at 
least ;  they  have  a  barbarous  religion  and  follow  it  to 
the  letter,  while  we  have  an  ideal  religion  and  fol- 
low it  out  only  in  form,  purely  theoretical.  We 
quibble  and  snarl  and  fence  over  creeds  and  doc- 
trines, giving  little  thought  to  the  great  things  Jesus 
taught  and  practiced.  No  wonder  that  a  great  army 
of  people  have  come  to  feel  as  I  do  —  indifferent  to 
the  Bible,  with  a  big  doubt  arising  as  to  whether 
there  ever  was  such  a  man  as  Jesus.  The  Bible 
has  given  us  some  beautiful  fairy  tales,  but  if  we 
cannot  apply  the  theory  to  our  every  day  problems, 
of  what  benefit  are  they  to  mankind  and  what  right 
have  we  to  teach  them  as  religion? 

Margaret  says  that  "  to  live  truth  daily,  to  let  our 
lives  speak  for  our  doctrine,  to  take  our  religion  into 
business  and  social  life,  is  better  than  volumes  of 

34 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  35 

theories  and  bears  more  weight  than  all  the  sermons 
ever  preached."  Even  I,  skeptic  that  I  am,  can  see 
the  logic  of  this.  If  all  our  professed  Christians 
followed  such  a  course,  this  world  would  be  a  Para- 
dise. 

But  again,  the  question  arises,  what  is  truth? 
We  have  so  many  standards  of  good  that  for  one 
person  to  assert  that  a  certain  thing  is  truth  is  like 
throwing  a  pebble  into  a  pool  of  calm  water.  Im- 
mediately a  commotion  arises,  the  disturbed  waters 
seek  to  bring  themselves  back  to  their  original  calm, 
but  not  until  circles  within  circles  have  formed,  each 
striving  for  the  inner  place,  ever  widening  until  they 
disappear  from  the  surface,  does  the  water  assume 
its  seeming  smoothness. 

And  that  is  what  Billy  did  to  my  apparent  calm 
the  other  day  —  threw  a  whole  handful  of  pebbles, 
and  the  surface  hasn't  calmed  yet ;  and  the  question 
ever  confronts  me,  what  is  the  truth  of  my  own 
special  problem  ?  Billy  called  me  up  the  next  morn- 
ing. 

I  never  knew  him  so  heartless  and  so  hard  on  me ; 
he  began  just  where  he  left  off  the  day  before.  "  I 
want  you  to  ponder  well  what  I  said  to  you  yester- 
day, Katheryne."  "  I  won't !  "  I  almost  shouted  at 
him,  "  and  I  won't  listen  to  you  again,  and  don't 
dare  come  to  me  until  I  send  for  you,"  and  I  rang 
off  before  he  could  answer.  But,  for  all  my  im- 
patience, I  am  thinking,  thinking,  thinking,  until  the 
black,  unlined  clouds  are  so  close  about  me  I  can 


36  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

scarcely  breathe,  but  no  one  else  can  help  me  think, 
not  even  Billy.  No  one  has  any  right  in  this  con- 
troversy but  Donald  and  I  —  and  "  God,"  Dear 
Special  Friend  would  say  —  but  I  haven't  saved  any 
space  in  my  thoughts  for  Him.  When  I  did  reserve 
a  room  away  back  in  my  childhood,  He  just  kept  the 
door  locked  and  wouldn't  let  me  get  near  Him  — 
issued  orders  through  the  key-hole  and  never 
recognized  the  fact  that  I  didn't  understand  them. 
No,  He  can't  come  to  the  council,  and  not  even 
Donald  can  demand  admittance  yet  —  so,  it's  my 
heart  and  I. 

We  will  go  into  the  garden  ;  perhaps  my  roses  will 
give  me  a  glimpse  into  the  future,  they  seem  so 
joyous ;  each  little  tender  sprout  pushing  its  way 
along  so  confidently,  never  interfering  with  each 
other,  always  seeming  to  know  just  where  to  go, 
and  how.  But  after  all  it  is  only  an  optical  illusion, 
as  is  so  much  that  the  eye  seems  to  comprehend. 
The  little  branch  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  har- 
mony and  activity,  neither  the  beautiful  blossoms; 
they  are  simply  automatons,  directed  by  the  strong, 
vigorous  roots  beneath.  Even  so  are  our  hands  and 
feet  and  tongue  and  heart  —  little  servants  to  mind. 

'  Tis  ever  so  —  the  motive,  the  power  is  out  of 
sight.  Truly,  the  things  that  are  seen  are  not  so 
great,  so  wonderful,  so  real  as  the  hidden  things. 

No,  little  rose,  you  have  given  me  of  your  frag- 
rance, your  philosophy,  but  no  surcease  from  heart- 
ache or  headache. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  37 

Oh,  you  dear  old  chum,  Jack,  sitting  there  on 
your  haunches,  with  a  face  like  a  patriarch,  waiting 
for  me  to  approach  you !  Yes,  I  understand  what 
your  smile  says  — "  There  is  a  bed  of  rare  plants 
between  us  which  you  have  forbidden  me  to  cross, 
so  pardon  my  not  coming  to  meet  you."  With  his 
clear  cut  face  and  sparkling  eyes  he  looks  the  em- 
bodiment of  wisdom.  "  Oh,  old  boy,"  I  cry,  as  I 
take  his  head  in  my  arms,  "  can't  you  solve  riddles 
with  your  great  heart  of  love  and  loyalty  ?  " —  but 
he  only  wags  his  tail  understandingly  and  looks  at 
me  with  eyes  of  devotion.  He  is  such  a  gentleman ; 
he  knows  I  do  not  like  kisses  and  never  annoys  me 
by  touching  my  face  —  and  we  pass  on  to  watch  the 
tiny  gold  fish  as  they  scamper  to  the  surface  to  look 
at  us  with  their  cold  eyes  and  beg  for  food  with 
their  little  snout-like  mouths  wide  open,  a  trap 
wisely  provided  by  nature  to  catch  any  particles 
floating  about.  They  know  that  only  once  in  a  great 
many  times  do  they  receive  food  when  they  come 
begging,  still,  from  habit  they  come  in  their  fruitless 
search  —  like  the  minister  who  makes  long  prayers 
while  we  sit  with  bowed  heads  until  our  necks  ache 
fit  to  break  with  the  strain  and  we  become  numb, 
holding  ourselves  so  intensely  quiet  to  be  sure  that 
he  leaves  no  one  out.  For  the  long-winded  prayer 
is  a  fearful  and  wonderful  thing;  it  reaches  to  the 
heights  and  depths  of  the  sea,  to  the  ends  and 
breadths  of  the  earth  and  extends  over  the  horizon 
to  catch  any  that  may  be  fleeing.  No  one  and  no 


38  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

place,  nothing  is  forgotten  —  and  our  necks  ache  on, 
and  after  we  have  become  convinced  that  no  one 
will  be  omitted,  we  cease  to  think  about  the  prayer, 
ease  our  necks  a  little  and  wish  we  had  remained  at 
home  with  the  author,  who  is  trying  to  help  human- 
ity solve  the  great  social  problems  confronting  us. 

Can  it  be,  with  all  this  nonsensical  wandering, 
that  I  am  trying  to  evade  the  question  forever  surg- 
ing in  my  brain  ? 

As  I  gaze  into  the  water  and  see  how  Jack's 
visage  and  my  own  are  distorted  and  enlarged,  I 
wonder  if  I  am  not  looking  through  an  enlarging 
and  distorting  vista  at  my  own  problems  —  a 
woman's  morbid  fears,  Billy's  over-cautiousness,  a 
romantic  temperament,  a  dreamer's  vision  of  an 
ideal  life. 

Here  the  postman  brought  me  a  letter  from  Don- 
ald ;  thus  it  ran : 

"  My  own  Dear  Little  Maid : 

"  Are  you  dreaming  of  me  tonight,  as  you 
should?  It  is  late,  after  midnight.  I  have  a 
trying  client  here  and  I  sat  late  with  him  tonight, 
trying  to  convince  him  of  the  wisdom  of  my  ways ; 
but  late  as  it  is,  I  cannot  sleep  until  I  have  had  a 
one-sided  chat  with  you. 

"  First,  I  want  to  inform  you  that  you  need 
special  training  in  writing  love  letters  —  such 
matter-of-fact  missives ! 

"  I  omitted  from  my  demand  of  a  daily  letter 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  39 

that  quantity  alone  would  not  suffice,  they  must 
have  quality  as  well.  So  far  you  have  obeyed 
the  letter  but  not  the  spirit.  If  I  were  your 
brother,  Katheryne,  your  letters  would  be  most 
delightful,  so  full  of  news  and  scenes  and  weather, 
but  I  am  a  long  way  from  being  your  brother  — 
I  am  your  most  ardent  lover,  darling,  and  care 
only  to  hear  of  you  and  of  how  much  you  care 
for  me. 

"  You  have  seemed  away  off  from  me  since  I 
came  here ;  a  mist  seems  to  hang  between.  I  can 
get  no  clear  thought  of  you,  not  even  of  your 
bonnie  face,  unless  I  consult  the  little  card  that 
rests  in  my  pocket,  very  near  to  my  heart.  I  fear 
you  are  not  sending  wireless -messages  of  love,  as 
I  bade  you.  You  have  become  life  itself  to  me, 
darling.  With  you  gone  it  would  only  be  exist- 
ence; all  sparkle  would  vanish  —  all  incentive  to 
accomplish. 

"  I  have  been  so  absorbed  in  business  since  com- 
ing here.  I  am  working  on  a  case  that  I  must 
win  —  not  only  from  a  standpoint  of  right  but 
that  I  may  feather  a  nest  with  softest  down  for 
my  dear  little  wife.  I  have  had  to  keep  every 
faculty  alert  to  meet  the  arguments  of  these  bril- 
liant men,  so  much  older  than  myself.  Yet,  every 
instant,  even  when  presenting  my  case  to  the  jury, 
there  was  always  that  undercurrent  of  joy  that 
sent  my  blood  leaping  through  my  veins,  with  the 
song,  '  Katheryne  is  mine,  is  mine ;  she  is  wait- 


40  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

ing  for  me;  she  will  soon  be  my  wife.'  The 
thought  is  like  wine  in  the  blood ;  it  is  inspiration ; 
it  gives  wings  to  thought  and  burning  words  of 
truth  to  the  tongue. 

"  This  is  such  a  beautiful  city,  Katheryne,  with 
the  mountains  all  about  it.  Nothing  forbidding 
and  unapproachable,  as  in  some  parts  of  the 
Rockies,  but  Nature,  in  her  softest,  most  per- 
suasive moods,  beautiful  beyond  description ! 

"  With  your  love  of  nature,  dear,  you  would 
be  wildly  excited.  And,  darling,  do  you  know 
what  I  am  thinking  all  the  time?  This  is  just 
the  place  for  our  honeymoon.  I  must  return  in 
September  —  can't  you  be  ready  to  come  with  me, 
sweetheart  ? 

"  Oh,  dear,  dear  girl !  As  I  write  these  words, 
the  thought  arises  in  spite  of  the  emotion  that 
thrills  and  sways  me,  what  if  there  should  be  no 
honeymoon  for  Katheryne  and  me  ?  The  thought 
unmans  me  and  I  know  I  would  not  care  to  live 
if  you  were  not  to  be  a  part  of  my  life. 

"  Write  to  me,  dear,  just  the  kind  of  a  letter 
I  want.     Put  your  sweet  self  into  it.     Allay  these 
terrible  fears  that  arise  in  spite  of  myself. 
"  With  all  the  love  of  my  heart, 

"  DONALD." 

I  will  consider  no  longer.  I  have  no  right  to 
spoil  a  man's  life;  and  this  love  is  no  dream,  no 
passing  infatuation  with  such  a  man  as  Donald.  No 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  41 

man  attracts  me  half  so  much.  Why  should  I  ques- 
tion? Why  should  I  not  marry  him  and  be  happy, 
too.  I  will  be  ready  in  September  —  but,  oh,  how 
my  head  throbs  and  aches ! 


CHAPTER  VII 

AUGUST. 

FOR  many  days  life  has  been  a  blank.     I  have 
been  very  ill  with  a  low  fever,  to  which  the 
doctors   gave   no    name.     The   case   baffled   them. 
Organically  I  was  in  perfect  condition,  they  said, 
but  they  could  not  check  the  fever. 

Had  they  a  machine  with  which  to  measure  not 
only  the  heartbeats,  but  the  mental  cause,  the  emo- 
tions, they  would  have  pronounced  my  case  one  of 
internal  conflict  instead  of  fever  —  head  versus 
heart. 

The  medical  world  is  a  wide  field  in  which  to 
work.  Examples  of  noble,  self-sacrificing  lives  are 
numbered  by  thousands  within  its  realm.  Physi- 
cians bear  great  responsibility  and  strain.  Even 
with  the  support  of  professional  ethics  it  must  be 
a  constant  "  dagger  of  the  mind  "  to  make  the  de- 
cisions of  life  and  death  for  the  millions  who  pause 
before  them  for  judgment. 

To  those  thoughtful  enough  to  read  the  signs  of 
the  times,  in  the  white  light  of  the  ever  increasing 
knowledge  of  man  and  his  possibilities,  the  great 
physician  of  the  future  is  portrayed  as  a  student  of 
character,  rather  than  of  physic  and  knives. 
42 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  43 

The  growing  meekness  with  which  we  yield  up 
parts  of  our  anatomy  is  tragedy.  It  is  well  to  al- 
low natural  laws  to  take  their  course,  to  attune  one's 
self  to  nature.  Nature  cannot  change  her  system 
for  man,  but  man  can  put  himself  in  touch  with  her 
when  she  will  be  a  great  restorer ;  she  constantly  ap- 
peals to  the  earth  children,  with  her  essence  of  cer- 
tainty. Do  they  need  rest?  She  will  cuddle  them 
in  her  arms  of  soothing  silence ;  she  will  lull  them 
to  sleep  with  the  songs  of  the  whispering  leaves ; 
she  will  open  up  vistas  of  beauty,  before  undreamed 
of,  both  for  their  mental  and  physical  eye. 

Nature  is  never  idle,  never  monotonous ;  ever  ac- 
complishing, ever  changing.  She  will  transform 
your  apathy  into  activity;  she  will  arouse  in  you  a 
desire  to  accomplish,  to  overcome.  If  you  approach 
her  without  prejudice,  with  an  open  mind,  she 
will  cleanse  and  clear  your  mentality,  possibly 
your  body.  It  is  a  venture  in  health  well  worth  the 
effort. 

BUT  I  have  wandered  far  away  from  my  little 
self.  I  have  no  recollection  after  reading  Donald's 
letter  —  they  found  me  fainting,  by  the  aquarium 
in  the  garden.  Not  since  childhood  had  I  been  sick 
before ;  never  had  I  fainted.  I  awakened  from  this 
faint  only  to  rave  and  fight  phantoms.  Donald 
came  but  I  would  not  have  him  near  me ;  and  Billy 
could  not  come  inside  my  room;  only  Dear  Special 
Friend  could  soothe  me.  So,  I  raved  and  tossed  and 


44  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

fought  until  exhausted,  when  I  lay  weak  and  the 
physicians  said,  dying. 

Then  Margaret  put  them  all  out  of  my  room.  I 
could  feel  myself  sinking,  sinking,  oblivion  closing 
over  me  and  I  did  not  care.  But  she  held  my  hand, 
she  would  not  let  me  go.  She  talked  of  God ;  she 
repeated  the  prayer  I  had  learned  at  my  mother's 
knee;  she  repeated  the  Psalms  I  had  heard  in  Sun- 
day School  when  a  wee  girl.  Over  and  over  again 
I  faintly  heard  the  emphatic  denial,  "  There  is  no 
death.  God  is  the  only  power." 

Then  gradually  I  could  feel  a  peace,  a  calmness 
stealing  over  me,  the  shadows  receded  and,  instead 
of  oblivion,  a  gentle  sleep  descended.  I  slept  for 
many  hours  and  awoke  in  my  right  mind.  And 
now,  less  than  three  weeks  since  that  unhappy  day, 
with  the  wonderful  recuperative  power  of  youth,  I 
am  almost  well  —  rather  shadowy  looking  from  my 
weeks  of  prostration,  and  shaky  as  though  just  learn- 
ing to  walk,  but  I  feel  the  elixir  of  life  springing 
within  me,  and  I  feel  that  it  is  good  to  be  alive. 

We  spent  the  afternoon  in  the  garden.  They  were 
all  so  dear  and  so  foolish  about  me.  They  would 
not  let  me  walk,  but  those  two  silly  men,  Donald 
and  Billy,  made  a  chair  of  their  hands  as  we  used 
to  do  when  we  were  children,  and  with  Jack  run- 
ning ahead  with  his  joyous,  ecstatic  barks,  carried 
me  out  in  state,  swathed  in  shawls,  and  placed  me 
in  the  most  comfortable  chair  the  house  affords,  in- 
stead of  on  my  stone  perch  that  I  love  so  well,  and 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  45 

made  me  keep  quiet  when  I  felt  like  shouting  and 
running. 

As  I  looked  into  the  faces  of  those  three  precious 
friends,  Margaret,  Donald  and  Billy,  looking  down 
upon  me  with  eyes  of  love  and  trust  and  devotion, 
my  own  eyes  filled  with  tears  and  I  stretched  my 
arms  to  them  in  mute  gratitude  for  all  their  tender 
care.  They  clasped  my  hands  lovingly,  knowing 
well  the  words  I  could  not  speak. 

Ruskin  tells  us  that  he  who  can  count  one  friend 
through  fair  and  stormy  weather,  is  blessed;  and 
here  am  I,  unworthy  as  I  am,  with  three  ready  to 
do  my  bidding.  Remembering  that  quiet  hour  when 
Dear  Special  Friend  held  my  hand  and  would  not 
let  me  go  over  the  Great  Divide,  I  said  under  my 
breath,  truly  a  "  friend  is  the  masterpiece  of  Na- 
ture." 

I  say  "  three  friends."  How  could  I  be  so  heed- 
less of  the  feelings  of  my  faithful  Jack?  I  should 
have  said  four.  He  was  like  a  wild  thing  all  the 
time  we  were  in  the  garden ;  I  feared  for  my  plants. 
I  heard  Mike  threatening  incarceration  in  the  tool 
house  —  the  worst  thing  that  can  befall  him ;  but  for 
once  that  dire  threat  was  without  effect;  he  kept 
one  eye  on  me,  one  on  Mike,  and  continued  his  joy- 
ous yelps. 

Oh,  it  has  been  such  a  happy  day !  The  garden 
was  never  so  beautiful !  This  is  the  glory  season 
of  the  flowers  and  after  my  long  confinement  in  the 
house,  its  beauty  thrilled  me  like  wine.  It  was  al- 


46  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

most  as  hard  for  me  to  keep  quiet  as  for  Jack,  but 
with  the  guard  about  me,  ready  to  assert  their 
authority,  I  was  forced  to  remain  in  my  chair. 

Donald's  eyes  were  ever  upon  me  and  out  of  sheer 
joy  of  living,  I  smiled  into  them  again  and  again, 
and  saw  his  lips  form  the  words,  "  my  darling." 

Margaret  had  her  work,  Billy  a  book ;  and  being  in 
an  argumentative  state  of  mind  and  no  one  willing 
to  leave  the  Lotus  dream  to  combat  him,  he  argued 
with  the  author,  giving  us  many  of  the  writer's 
views,  and  then  his  own  —  much  to  our  amusement. 
He  soon  tired  of  that,  however,  and  started  in  to 
arouse  Margaret,  whom  he  dearly  loves  to  draw  out. 
"  Listen  to  this,  Miss  Margaret,"  he  challenged ; 
"  here  is  an  author  as  positive  as  yourself.  After 
exhorting  us  to  be  '  every  moment  masters  of  our- 
selves '  Charbonnel  asserts  that  '  there  is  no  more 
limit  to  the  gratification  of  a  right  desire  than  there 
is  to  the  air  we  breathe.'  The  question  that  arises 
in  my  mind  is,  how  are  we  to  decide  what  are  right 
desires;  to  wish  for  a  thing  is  generally  conceded 
sufficient  reason  to  call  it  a  right  desire." 

"  Let  Mind  decide,"  answers  Dear  Special  Friend, 
her  eyes  brightening. 

"  But  there  are  minds  many,  my  dear  Miss  Mar- 
garet." 

"  There  is  but  one  Mind,"  she  replied  in  her  posi- 
tive way. 

"  There  you  go,  Lady  Margaret,  with  one  of  your 
ultimatums.  And  how,  '  one  mind  '  ?  "  Billy  ques- 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  47 

tioned.  "  For  instance,  here  are  four  minds,  not 
including  Jack's  —  very  positive  minds,  too,  I  as- 
sure you,  and  each  one  would  have  very  decided 
views  as  to  what  are  right  desires." 

"  We  are  all  reflections  of  one  Supreme  Mind, 
which  is  God,"  Margaret  asserted  conclusively. 
"  When  we  admit  this  great  truth  and  allow  this 
principle  to  govern  our  lives,  we  know  when  our 
desires  are  right.  We  submit  them  to  God.  If 
they  are  selfish,  unkind  or  malicious,  we  are  quickly 
warned  by  the  Voice  within,  and  strive  to  destroy 
the  wrong  thought.  We  know  positively  by  this 
test  when  our  desires  are  right  and  sanctioned  by 
God ;  and  Charbonnel  is  right  —  there  is  no  limit  to 
such  desires,"  she  smiled  into  Billy's  quizzical 
eyes. 

"  I  yield  the  floor,  Dear  Special  Friend,"  he 
laughed.  "  When  you  begin  to  expound  your 
philosophy,  you  leave  no  room  for  whys  and  where- 
fores, but  at  one  fell  swoop  say  'it  is  so.'  I  might 
quote  Reid :  '  By  the  mind  of  a  man  we  understand 
that  in  him  which  thinks,  remembers,  wills ; '  or 
Spencer :  '  Mind  consists  of  feelings  and  the  rela- 
tions among  feelings  ' —  and  many  other  notable 
scholars  on  mind;  but  your  one  authority  would 
override  them  all,  because,  as  you  say,  you  have 
proven  the  Tightness  of  your  assertion." 

"  Yes,"  she  said  seriously ;  "  the  mind  to  which 
you  refer  is  mortal  mind,  confined  in  this  thing  we 
call  brain  —  which  is  ever  vibrating  between  two 


48  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

extremes,  rest  and  unrest,  which  is  not  intelligence 
and  must  be  subdued  to  Divine  Mind,  which  does  not 
reside  in  brain,  and  which  transmits  right  thoughts 
and  destroys  error,  before  desires  are  right  and  re- 
sults are  as  we  would  have  them.  Then  man  can 
truly  say,  '  My  mind  is  my  kingdom.'  " 

"  Then,  according  to  your  theory,"  Billy  ex- 
claimed, "  we  have  the  power  to  determine  the  kind 
of  thoughts  we  will  think !  " 

"  Most  assuredly.  We  can  decide  the  kind  of 
thoughts  we  will  entertain  as  positively  as  we  can 
decide  the  food  we  will  serve  for  dinner." 

"  This  sounds  much  like  the  tale  of  Fortunatus, 
and  I  would  gladly  embrace  your  doctrine,  if  it  can 
do  all  you  claim  for  it." 

"  It  can,  it  does,  Mr.  Saunders.  I  know  from  ex- 
perience. Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard  the 
wonderful  things  prepared  by  God  for  man.  Per- 
haps I  can  give  you  a  clearer  conception  of  the 
modus  operandi  of  thought  control  by  continuing 
the  same  homely  simile.  The  young  housekeeper, 
giving  orders  for  her  dinner  for  the  first  time,  will 
find  many  difficulties  confronting  her.  She  must 
learn  the  relation  foods  bear  to  each  other,  the  time 
for  preparation  and  cooking  and  a  multitude  of  de- 
tails that  only  time  and  experience  can  teach  her. 
Even  so  with  the  student  of  thought  forces.  It  re- 
quires more  time  than  a  college  education,  and  the 
patience  of  Job,  to  be  '  ever  master  of  one's  self,'  to 
think  the  thoughts  that  are  good  for  all  mankind  and 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  49 

shut  out  the  evil  thoughts  that  are  ever  striving  for 
entrance  to  our  mentality;  but  it  means  control  of 
the  body  as  well  as  the  mind ;  it  means  life,  health 
and  happiness." 

"  I  fear  you  would  have  many  lapses,"  Billy  said, 
skeptically,  "  and  many  hours  of  discouragement, 
before  the  goal  was  reached." 

"  Quite  true,"  Margaret  replied.  "  Discourage- 
ment is  the  greatest  enemy  we  have  to  progress. 
I  like  the  illustration  given  in  the  old  fable,  of  the 
devil's  imps  that  were  sent  out  to  trap  a  man  who 
was  doing  much  good  in  the  world  through  the  habit 
of  right  thinking.  They  were  given  instruction  to 
use  all  their  tricks  and  schemes  and  beguilements. 
They  worked  upon  him  secretly  for  many  days,  with- 
out result,  and  at  last,  gave  him  up  as  a  hopeless 
case.  Finally,  they  were  summoned  before  his 
satanic  majesty  to  account  for  their  failure.  '  We 
tried  him,'  they  reported,  '  with  every  device  known 
to  your  highness ;  with  riches  and  poverty ;  with 
pleasure  and  pain;  with  success  and  failure;  with 
sickness  and  health,  but  without  avail;  we  could 
not  move  him.'  '  Let  me  see  your  tools,'  demanded 
the  devil.  He  looked  them  over  and  counted  a  full 
assortment  of  mental  hooks  and  saws  and  hammers 
and  magnets  and  wrenches,  used  by  evil  to  uncouple 
men  from  their  sense  of  right.  But  one  of  the  usual 
outfit  was  missing.  '  Where  is  your  wedge  ? '  he 
cried  in  a  rage.  '  How  could  you  expect  to  get 
hold  of  a  man  who  holds  fast  to  his  habits  of  right 


50  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

thinking?  You  must  first  pry  him  loose  with  your 
old  reliable  wedge.'  And  he  handed  them  an  old 
and  much  worn  tool,  a  wedge  that  had  seen  much 
service,  marked  in  small  letters,  '  Discouragement.' 
'  Take  that,'  said  the  devil,  '  and  if  that  does  not  get 
him  started  our  way,  nothing  ever  will.'  " 

"  You  surely  discourage  any  arguments  I  have 
in  store  to  combat  your  philosophy,"  Billy  laughed. 
"  And,  begging  your  pardon,  not  to  change  the  sub- 
ject, but  to  perform  duty,  do  you  see  that  sun  just 
dropping  off  the  world,  and  this  invalid  with  the 
dewdrops  all  about  her?  Come,  Donald,  you  have 
gazed  at  Katheryne  quite  long  enough — "  as  the 
color  flew  to  my  cheeks  — "  see,  her  roses  have  re- 
turned!" 

I  was  again  lifted  and  borne  into  the  house  where 
I  was  deposited  on  my  couch  and  given  orders  to 
remain  until  the  next  morning. 

"  Oh,  dearest,"  Donald  whispered,  as  he  bent  over 
me,  "  I  cannot  tell  you  how  happy  I  am  to  have 
you  almost  well  again."  I  ran  my  fingers  through 
his  glossy  hair  and  patted  his  brown  cheek  so  near 
my  own,  all  foreboding  for  the  moment  gone;  the 
exhilaration  of  the  open  air,  of  returning  health, 
was  in  my  veins. 

"  It  seems  good  to  think  of  belonging  to  you  to- 
night, dear,"  I  said  softly  from  the  friendly  shadow 
of  his  broad  shoulders. 

"  Do  you  mean  it,  Katheryne  ?  "  he  cried,  with 
deep  drawn  breath. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  51 

"  Truly,"  I  laughed ;  "  I  think  Margaret's  lecture 
sent  my  thoughts  into  right  channels." 

"  Be  sure  that  you  keep  them  there ;  that  part  of 
Margaret's  philosophy  would  be  of  great  benefit  to 
you.  And  now  you  must  sleep,  my  girl."  And 
pressing  his  lips  gently  on  my  own,  he  bade  me  good 
night. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AUGUST. 

ALL  day  long  the  rain  has  fallen  steadily  and 
that  depressing  old  couplet,  "  Into  each  life 
some  rain  must  fall,  some  days  be  dark  and  dreary," 
has  rung  constantly  in  my  ears. 

I  am  almost  well;  the  health-glow  is  bounding 
through  my  veins.  Donald  and  I  have  spent  a  long 
evening  in  front  of  the  fire  —  such  a  cozy,  homelike 
scene !  Topsy  asleep  on  the  hearth  and  Jack 
stretched  out  at  our  feet,  with  only  an  occasional 
lift  of  the  eye,  or  a  soft  tap  of  his  tail  to  assure  us 
that  he  is  listening,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  seems 
to  be  sleeping. 

We  two  before  the  hearth,  with  only  the  soft 
glow  of  the  firelight  to  illumine  the  whole ! 

I  LOVE  this  library  of  mine  which  has  in  it  all  my 
most  loved,  most  cherished  possessions  —  my  books, 
my  best  pictures,  my  friends'  portraits,  and  all  the 
little  trophies  I  have  collected  in  my  travels  at  home 
and  abroad !  This  dear  room  that  has  had  but  few 
changes  —  except  to  add  more  treasures  —  since 
mother  came  here,  a  bride ;  and  I  am  so  happy  to- 

52 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  53 

night  to  know  that  this  house  and  this  dear  old  room 
will  be  my  home  all  through  life. 

Donald  has  at  last  consented  to  make  my  home 
his.  It  has  taken  many  pleadings  on  my  part  to 
bring  him  to  this  decision,  and  I  fear  now  it  comes 
more  because  I  have  been  ill  and  he  wanted  my  con- 
sent to  a  September  wedding  than  from  his  best 
judgment.  Men  are  so  queer!  Now,  here  is  this 
comfortable  old  house  with  its  beautiful  garden,  and 
only  Sarah,  Mike  and  myself  to  occupy  it,  and  yet 
Donald  has  felt  that  he  must  supply  our  home, 
which  would  be  a  heavy  tax  just  at  this  time  when 
he  is  establishing  himself  in  his  profession.  But 
this  fact,  notwithstanding,  he  has  been  quite  cross 
when  I  talked  of  his  coming  to  me,  and  did  not 
yield  tonight  with  much  grace.  I  was  too  happy  to 
gain  any  kind  of  consent  to  complain  of  the  manner 
of  it,  however. 

Man  can't  help  this  feeling  of  independence  to- 
ward the  woman  of  his  choice ;  he  has  been  the  pro- 
vider for  too  many  generations  to  take  kindly  to 
financial  aid  from  his  wife.  Of  course,  we  have 
fortune  hunters  who  feel  differently,  but  they  don't 
count,  when  we  talk  of  men.  It  is  a  truly  beautiful 
tribute  our  suitors  pay  to  us,  as  Donald  said :  "  It 
is  only  the  woman  I  love  that  I  want  and  not  her 
worldly  possessions.  I  would  rather  live  in  a  flat 
of  two  rooms  than  come  to  your  house ;  it  makes  me 
feel  like  a  dependent."  Then  he  saw  how  selfish 
that  would  be  and  that  he  wasn't  thinking  of  me  at 


54  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

all,  but  only  of  himself  and  the  public  —  a  little  bit 
of  the  spirit  of  the  cave  man.  All  forceful  men 
are,  unconsciously,  masterful  with  the  woman  they 
love.  He  saw  his  attitude,  however,  after  I  had 
overthrown  every  argument  he  brought  forth,  he 
apologized  humbly,  and  at  last  consented  to  my 
plans.  I  am  so  happy  over  it  that  I  want  to  shout 
and  dance. 

YES,  my  wedding  day  is  settled.  I  am  to  be  mar- 
ried September  2Oth  —  Donald  and  I,  for  weal  or 
woe. 

I  FELT  that  I  could  not  go  to  Donald  without  mak- 
ing one  last  effort  to  let  him  know  that  my  love  did 
not  equal  his  own.  I  attempted  to  give  him  an  in- 
sight into  my  thoughts  tonight,  to  tell  him  as  much 
as  I  know  myself,  which  is  very  little  —  my  heart 
still  remains  a  mystery  to  me.  And  when  I  tried 
to  tell  him  all  this  he  took  me  fiercely  in  his  arms 
and  stopped  my  mouth  with  passionate  kisses. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  he  said,  with  deep  drawn  breath. 
"  I  have  known  something  of  this  all  the  time. 
When  a  man  loves  as  I  love  you,  Katheryne,  he 
cannot  be  deceived.  I  thought  it  only  shyness  at 
first,  a  woman's  instinctive  impulse  to  hide  her  love ; 
and  then —  when  your  aloofness  remained  —  when 
you  never  came  to  me  of  your  own  choice  —  never 
yielded  yourself  to  me  as  a  woman  yields  who  loves 
supremely  —  I  knew.  When  you  were  ill,  your  rav- 
ings, your  attitude  toward  me,  revealed  much. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  55 

When  I  realized  why  you  were  delirious,  tossing 
with  fever,  it  nearly  maddened  me  and  I  thought  I 
would  go  away  and  never  see  you  again.  But  I 
could  not,  Katheryne,  I  simply  could  not." 

"  But,  Donald,  suppose  I  never  am  able  to  love 
you  in  the  way  you  desire,"  I  plead,  eager  to  have 
him  read  my  heart,  wishing  to  conceal  nothing  from 
him ;  "  would  your  love  remain  the  same?  Are  you 
unselfish  enough  to  always  give  a  double  portion  and 
be  satisfied  with  my  calmer  affection?  It  was  this 
great  fear  that  prostrated  me,  that  filled  me  with 
fever,  and  the  feeling  that  to  give  up  and  die  was  the 
best  thing  for  us  both.  What  if  you  awaken  to  a 
heart-hunger  some  day  that  will  not  be  quieted  — 
that,  finding  no  response  in  me,  will  turn  to  feed 
upon  itself  and  so  destroy  all?" 

"You  do  not  love  anyone  else?"  he  questioned 
suddenly,  sharply. 

"  No,  Donald,  no.  You  know  that.  No  man  has 
ever  aroused  in  me  the  love  I  believed  existed  be- 
tween man  and  woman  —  the  love  for  which  I  have 
waited.  I  have  always  believed  that  the  love  which 
sanctioned  marriage  would  so  sway  and  master  me 
that  it  could  not  be  resisted ;  but  such  love  has  never 
touched  me  and  I  wonder  if  it  exists  in  me,  and  if 
it  does,  Donald  —  if  it  does  and  comes  too  late, 
what  would  we  do,  dear?  These  are  the  questions 
that  have  torn  me  for  weeks,  that  sapped  all  my 
strength." 

"  Let  us  think  quietly  of  this,  Katheryne,"  Donald 


56  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

said  after  a  time,  holding  my  hands  in  his,  and  sooth- 
ing me  with  gentle  touches.  "  You  are  all  in  a 
tremor,  girl ;  sit  quiet  here  and  let  me  think  for  you 
for  a  time.  Any  great  decision  causes  agitation  and 
unrest.  I  admit  the  possibility  of  all  the  fears  that 
have  mastered  you,  and  I  am  not  unselfish  enough 
to  be  satisfied  with  your  friendly  kisses  —  they  have 
almost  made  me  lose  heart,  almost  destroyed  the 
joy  of  the  thought  of  possessing  you.  But,  dear, 
you  will  be  my  wife,  bound  to  me  by  the  strongest 
tie  and  so  I  am  willing  to  take  my  chances  against 
any  other  man  awakening  you.  Then  we  must  not 
lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  woman's  love  compared  to 
man's  is  as  moonbeams  compared  to  sunlight.  I 
have  love  enough  for  us  both  until  your  heart  yields 
its  treasure  to  me,  and  I  will  be  so  tender  of  you, 
dear,  that  you  must,  perforce,  love  me  in  return. 
Can't  you  trust  me,  Katheryne  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Donald,  more  than  I  trust  myself ;  but  I 
cannot  be  sure  that  woman's  love  is  subordinate  to 
man's.  Passion  may  not  sway  her  so  helplessly, 
but  love,  Donald  —  the  love  that  lives  on  after  pas- 
sion is  stilled  —  which  should  grow  into  tenderness 
beyond  expression,  as  two  lives  become  one !  I  have 
always  felt  that  woman's  affections  should  far  sur- 
pass man's ;  the  demands  upon  her  love  are  so  much 
greater ;  it  is  her  privilege  to  bear  the  fruits  of  love, 
and  —  oh,  it  is  so  hard  to  understand  it  all  —  to  tell 
you  just  how  it  seems  to  me.  Marriage  is  such  an 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  57 

irrevocable  step;  and  —  I  know,  if  you  were  disap- 
pointed in  me  as  a  wife,  I  should  want  to  die !  " 

"  You  have  brooded  over  this  delusion,  child,  un- 
til you  are  morbid,"  Donald  said,  tenderly.  "  Come, 
cast  it  off;  be  my  own  brave  girl;  give  me  a  kiss 
that  will  send  me  into  the  dark  night  with  sunshine 
in  my  heart." 

"  Oh,  Donald ! "  I  exclaimed,  laying  my  arms 
about  his  neck  and  holding  him  close.  "  I  will  take 
your  word  for  it  and  put  all  my  fears  from  me ;  and, 
dear  Laddie,  may  I  ever  be  the  sunshine  of  your 
life!" 

And  as  I  stood  encircled  by  his  arms  and  looked 
deep  into  his  eyes,  I  seemed  to  see  as  in  a  vision  the 
great  heart  of  love  that  beat  for  me  alone. 


CHAPTER  IX 

SEPTEMBER. 

MORE  than  a  month  since  I  confided  in  my  little 
book  —  a  month  of  hurry  and  worry,  turmoil 
and  nerve-wracking  days. 

All  the  walls  of  my  house  have  been  done  over  in 
preparation  for  our  wedding.  I  have  been  so  glad 
to  allow  Donald  the  privilege  of  doing  this,  and  how 
he  has  enjoyed  renewing  and  feathering  the  nest. 
Many  new  things  have  been  added  all  over  the  house ; 
only  the  library  has  remained  unchanged,  except 
retinted  walls  and  new  draperies.  How  I  love  beau- 
tiful draperies ! 

Donald  requested  the  pleasure  of  refurnishing  my 
room  throughout  and  I  was  only  too  happy  to  grant 
it;  and  now,  the  night  before  the  wedding,  it  is 
finished,  even  to  the  smallest  detail  and  is  beautiful 
beyond  description  —  just  such  a  room  as  I  have 
dreamed  of  but  never  could  afford  to  have.  I  was 
consulted  on  every  detail  of  the  furnishing ;  in  fact, 
Donald  knows  little  of  such  things.  The  only  stipu- 
lation to  me  was  that  I  should  not  question  the  cost. 
The  least  intimation  of  such  a  tendency,  Donald 
said,  would  close  the  door  on  me  and  he  would 

58 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  59 

"  cover  the  walls  with  gold,  the  ceiling  with  diamond 
stars  and  the  floor  with  sandalwood."  Of  course, 
after  such  a  terrible  threat  I  ceased  to  talk  economy 
and  humored  my  tempestuous  lover  to  his  most  ex- 
travagant bent.  The  result  is  a  dream  —  a  perfect 
room ! 

The  room  is  large  with  a  bow  end  to  the  south, 
with  large  windows  reaching  to  the  floor,  and  a  bed 
alcove  with  high  windows  to  the  East.  The  walls 
and  silken  draperies  are  in  a  warm  shade  of  gray ; 
the  ceiling,  the  daintiest  shade  of  pink ;  the  draperies 
of  the  filmiest  lace,  with  here  and  there  a  rosebud. 
The  rug  has  the  same  shade  of  gray,  with  rose  colors 
peeping  through,  as  through  a  gray  mist  —  a  sug- 
gestion of  color,  rather  than  a  reality.  Woodwork, 
bed,  table,  dressing  table,  book  case,  desk,  all  of 
ivory  white. 

My  desk  is  the  thing  par  excellence.  It  is  fur- 
nished with  all  the  little  luxurious  things  a  woman 
loves,  as  is  also  my  dressing  table  —  all  in  silver. 

Then  my  bow-window  is  filled  with  ferns  in 
silver- toned  jardineres,  many  of  them — -I  must 
confess  —  in  silver  dishes.  I  trembled  at  the  ex- 
travagance, but  dare  not  say  a  word. 

And  the  crowning  gifts  of  all  are  the  two  pictures 
which  Donald  brought  today  and  which  he  insisted 
on  hanging  before  I  had  even  a  peep  at  them.  They 
are  hung  on  opposite  walls,  and  are,  to  me,  the  most 
beautiful  pictures  in  the  world,  engravings,  with  no 
touch  of  color  to  spoil  the  harmony.  One,  Long- 


60  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

fellow's  "  Maidenhood  " — "  Standing  with  reluctant 
feet,  where  the  brook  and  river  meet?  "  The  other, 
the  "  Sistine  Madonna,"  with  all  its  wonderful  ten- 
derness and  sweetness.  I  flew  at  Donald  and  gave 
him  such  a  hug  as  I  am  sure  he  never  received  be- 
fore. Could  anything  else  have  so  revealed  the 
beauty  and  fineness  of  his  nature? 

This  beautiful  room  has  been  such  a  bond  between 
us  —  we  have  been  so  happy  with  our  nest  building ! 
I  cannot  understand  how  a  young  couple,  just  mar- 
ried, trying  to  adjust  themselves  to  the  new  life, 
learning  to  know  each  other  as  they  really  are  —  in 
all  those  first  tender  days,  can  deny  themselves  the 
pleasure  and  unity  of  thought  there  is  in  home  build- 
ing. Our  home  furnishing  is  something  neither 
Donald  nor  I  will  ever  forget. 

My  personal  preparations  have  not  been  so  pleas- 
ant. I  have  not  been  able  to  grow  enthusiastic  over 
all  the  dainty  things  —  although  I  am  very  fond  of 
pretty  clothes  —  that  I  must  have  —  every  bride 
has  them;  but  they  have  been  such  a  tax  on  my 
strength  and  spirits.  I  have  felt  so  hurried,  work- 
ing against  time ;  have  strained  every  nerve  —  and 
just  when  I  wanted  to  feel  at  ease  and  have  time 
for  all  my  friends ;  but  then,  it  would  not  seem  like 
being  married  without  all  this  rush  and  these  great 
piles  of  finery. 

Dear  Special  Friend  has  constantly  remonstrated 
with  me :  "  Why  drop  your  sensible  self,  Kath- 
eryne,"  she  said,  "  and  be  in  this  vortex  of  clothes, 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  61 

millinery  and  dressmakers  ?  It  makes  my  own  head 
whirl  just  to  think  of  all  you  are  trying  to  ac- 
complish. Why  begin  your  new  life  with  tense 
nerves  and  weary  mind  and  body?  Donald  is  not 
marrying  you  for  your  clothes,  but  for  yourself  — 
just  you,  and  are  you  going  to  hide  your  real  self 
under  wornout  nerves?  No  amount  of  clothes  will 
make  amends  for  a  cheerless  companion."  I  am 
almost  sure  she  is  right,  but  all  my  friends  have 
done  as  I  am  doing  and  would  think  me  queer  if  I 
did  otherwise. 

Donald  only  staid  a  few  moments  tonight ;  he  said 
that  I  looked  so  weary  and  in  need  of  rest.  But  I 
could  not  shut  my  eyes  until  I  had  recorded  this 
last  page  of  my  girlhood  days.  They  have  been  such 
happy  years,  so  full  of  the  good  things  of  life,  the 
real  things,  friends  —  loyal,  steadfast  friends.  I 
know  contentment  with  the  simple  things  of  life, 
with  nature  and  home  duties  and  books,  and  I  have 
always  looked  forward  to  marriage  as  the  round- 
ing and  completing  of  my  life.  Will  it  be? 

FOR  the  last  month,  in  fact,  ever  since  my  long 
talk  with  Donald  before  the  fire  in  my  library,  I 
have  thrown  off  foreboding  and  fear  and  Donald 
and  I  have  been  so  happy;  but  tonight,  when  bid- 
ding me  good-bye,  he  said :  "  This  is  our  last  good- 
bye, darling ;  from  this  time  on  to  eternity,  our  paths 
will  no  longer  divide ;  you  will  be  mine  for  all  time 
—  all  the  old  fear  returned  and  I  know  that  my  lips 


62  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

were  unresponsive  and  cold  and  that  Donald  left 
me  with  a  pang  in  his  heart. 

DEAR  old  garden,  lying  there  so  beautiful  in  the 
moonlight !  I  have  been  so  happy  with  you  always. 
May  I  never  bring  to  you  a  tale  of  sorrow!  But, 
even  as  I  look,  the  black  storm  clouds  approaching 
so  rapidly  from  the  West  engulf  the  moon ;  all  her 
brightness  disappears,  and  the  garden  is  in  dark- 
ness. 


CHAPTER  X 

SEPTEMBER. 

MY  wedding  morning  broke  bright  and  clear ;  the 
distant  hills,  with  their  freshened  verdure, 
glowed  in  the  clear  morning  atmosphere ;  the  near- 
by forest  tinkled-  musically,  as  it  shook  the  raindrops 
from  its  smiling  leaves  —  a  fresh-washed  earth, 
with  no  trace  of  last  night's  storm  in  the  sky.  Only 
the  earth  things  show  the  result  of  the  tempest 
through  which  they  passed,  but  even  the  grasses  and 
plants  begin  to  rear  their  heads  and  the  blossoms  to 
dry  their  tears  in  response  to  the  sun's  call.  All 
nature  is  revivified  by  his  warm  rays  and  responds 
to  his  magnetic  touch  in  an  effort  to  bring  herself 
back  into  harmonious  lines  and  order  —  all  but  my 
poor  fallen  oak  at  the  foot  of  the  garden.  There 
it  lies,  prostrate,  twisted  and  broken,  withering  in 
the  sun's  hot  rays ;  only  the  splendid  stump  standing 
in  all  its  mutilated  gruesomeness,  tells  the  story  of 
the  battle  of  destructive  force  against  useful 
strength.  A  fallen  tree  appeals  to  me  almost  as  a 
fallen  man  —  the  sudden  cessation  of  life  and  activ- 
ity, of  aspiration  and  growth.  The  downfall  of  my 
old  oak  is  like  the  downfall  of  a  great  man,  who,  as 
the  oak  in  the  old  German  legend,  refused  to  bend 

63 


64  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

and  so  was  broken,  "  sturdy  and  staunch  "  it  stood, 
no  weakling  thing  to  be  swayed  by  every  wind  that 
blew.  Even  so  the  strong  man  of  courage  and  con- 
viction stands,  unyielding  to  the  storms  of  error  that 
beat  upon  him  ;  and  though  he  breaks  and  apparently 
goes  down  under  the  terrific  strain,  so  great  is  the 
fall  that  a  whole  nation  is  aroused  to  consider  the 
cause  for  which  he  stood  so  bravely. 

The  robins  preparing  for  their  winter  migration, 
are  chattering  about  the  fallen  oak,  wondering,  I 
am  sure,  where  they  will  set  up  housekeeping  on 
their  return  in  the  spring. 

As  I  stood  pondering  my  recumbent  friend,  Sarah 
came  to  tell  me  that  breakfast  was  waiting. 

Dear  old  Sarah  with  her  great,  tender  heart  and 
uncouth,  angular  body  —  the  fine  intuitions  and  sen- 
sibilities of  a  woman  and  the  muscular  strength  of 
a  man.  No  man  has  ever  been  found  keen  enough 
to  see  through  the  forbidding  exterior  into  the 
golden  heart  within,  so  she  goes  through  life  alone, 
finding  her  happiness  in  the  joys  of  others.  No  one 
could  replace  her  in  my  heart  or  household ;  she  has 
guarded  and  served  me  all  my  life  and  loved  me  as 
her  own.  She  has  tingled  to  her  finger-tips  with  ro- 
mance ever  since  my  wedding  preparations  began  — 
all  woman  now,  her  heart  swelling  with  tenderness 
and  joy  for  my  future. 

"  Happy  is  the  bride  that  the  sun  shines  on, 
Katine,"  she  said,  as  she  patted  my  shoulder.  "  I 
prayed  for  sunshine  last  night,  child,  when  the 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  65 

storm  was  raging,  and  behold !  Did  you  ever  see  a 
brighter  wedding  day  ?  " 

"  You  dear  old  saint,"  I  replied,  as  I  squeezed 
her  hand ;  "  your  prayer  would  be  answered,  if  any 
prayer  was." 

"Don't  doubt,  Katine,  don't  doubt  the  power  of 
God !  "  she  exclaimed,  almost  in  fear.  "  Think  of 
the  fury  of  His  power  last  night  when  it  broke  the 
great  strong  oak!  Think,  if  that  fury  were  turned 
on  us !  " 

"  Oh,  Sarah,"  I  said,  "  those  are  the  very  things 
that  make  me  doubt.  Why  should  a  power  that  we 
call  '  good '  destroy  anything  so  glorious,  so  useful 
as  my  oak  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  child,"  she  replied ;  "  it  is  all  hid- 
den from  us,  but  sometimes  He  sends  good  and 
sometimes  He  sends  bad ;  we  must  not  question. 
It  is  God's  way." 

"  A  very  human  way,"  is  my  answer ;  "  that  is 
just  as  man  works.  All  smiles  today  and  revenge- 
ful tomorrow,  because,  perchance,  we  have  sinned 
against  some  of  His  laws,  and  oftentimes,  through 
ignorance.  Yet,  we  are  assured  that  the  punish- 
ment will  follow.  We  are  told  that  God  created 
us  with  all  our  weaknesses  and  then  He  chastises 
us  for  not  being  perfect.  A  human  parent  would 
be  much  more  considerate  of  his  erring  children. 
The  '  Prodigal  Son/  being  received  with  open  arms 
and  rejoicing  is  a  much  more  convincing  illustration 
of  tender,  omnipotent  love  and  care  than  the  fury 


66  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

of  last  night,  lashing  the  beautiful,  growing  things 
into  shreds  and  destroying  them,  and  then  the  re- 
suscitating sunshine  working  today  to  undo  the 
destruction  of  the  storm.  Your  God  seems  to  me, 
Sarah,  much  as  the  mythological  gods  of  old,  and  I 
know  I  can  be  a  much  better  woman,  my  dear,  old, 
hovering  angel,  by  believing  in  the  simple  forces  of 
nature  than  in  fearing  an  ever-changing  God." 

"  Oh,  honey,  don't  talk  so,"  she  exclaimed ;  "  it 
sounds  like  blasphemy.  It  makes  my  old  heart 
tremble  to  hear  a  young  thing  like  you,  with  all 
your  lessons  to  learn,  say  such  things.  Do  try  to 
believe,  for  God's  punishments  are  terrible  when 
they  come." 

"  Don't  worry,  dear  heart,"  I  laugh,  as  I  put  my 
arms  about  her.  "  I'll  be  your  own  good  little  girl 
and  then,  if  He  does  strike  me,  I  will  have  the  satis- 
faction of  knowing  I  do  not  deserve  it,  which  is 
something,  you  know." 

"  Katine,  Katine,  you  must  not  be  so  bold.  God 
is  a  revengeful  God.  You  make  me  tremble.  But 
how  forgetful  of  me !  "  she  suddenly  exclaimed,  re- 
membering why  she  came  into  the  garden  — "  with 
Miss  Margaret  waiting  at  the  breakfast  table ;  and, 
how  can  you  stand  talking  about  such  things  on 
your  wedding  day?"  All  the  sparkle  of  excite- 
ment returned  to  her  eyes  and  the  rough  old  hand 
tenderly  smoothed  my  hair. 

I  found  Dear  Special  Friend  waiting  at  the  break- 
fast table,  happiness  radiating  from  her  face.  I 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  67 

greeted  her  with  a  kiss.  "  A  perfect  day,"  she  said, 
smiling  into  my  eyes. 

"  Did  you  also  pray  for  sunshine?"  I  laughingly 
inquired. 

"  No,  dear,"  she  said,  "  only  sunshine  of  the 
heart.  We  do  not  need  the  sun  to  make  a  perfect 
wedding  day." 

"  Sarah  is  trying  to  make  me  believe  that  the  sun 
is  shining  today  because  she  requested  it  as  a  spe- 
cial favor  for  my  wedding;  and  that  last  night, 
God,  in  His  fury,  broke  down  my  beautiful  oak.  I 
think  my  friend,  Billy,  works  more  consistently  than 
that." 

"  So  he  does,  Katheryne,"  she  said,  "  if  what  you 
say  represents  God's  work,  but  it  does  not.  In  the 
first  place,  we  can  always  have  sunshine  if  our 
thoughts  are  right.  When  we  live  right  our  light 
comes  from  within.  God  sends  only  good  to  His 
children.  Your  beautiful  tree  was  not  overthrown 
by  God." 

"  The  storm  broke  the  tree,"  I  replied,  indiffer- 
ently ;  "  it  was  an  act  of  Nature  in  one  of  her  wild 
moods." 

"  Neither  would  I  credit  destruction  to  Nature, 
Katheryne,"  Margaret  said.  "  In  the  spiritual 
sense,  God  and  Nature  are  identical.  The  storm 
was  the  culmination  of  some  form  of  error  that  had 
grown  to  such  proportions  that  it  burst  in  destruc- 
tive force.  So  sin,  beginning  subtly  —  a  weakling 
—  if  unheeded,  will,  in  time,  grow  to  such  proper- 


68  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

tions  that  it  will  finally  turn  to  rend  and  destroy  it- 
self; sometimes  in  the  form  of  sickness,  again  in 
destruction  or  misfortune.  God,  good,  is  never  a 
destroyer,  but  a  builder.  Good  builds  on  sure 
foundations,  never  for  the  individual  alone,  but 
for  the  benefit  of  the  masses.  The  beautiful  tree 
blesses  all  who  come  within  the  radius  of  its  out- 
stretched arms,  irrespective  of  ownership.  It  is  a 
thing  of  beauty  to  rest  the  eye  upon;  it  provides  a 
place  of  refuge  and  rest  for  man  and  beast ;  the  little 
children  love  it,  and  the  bird  finds  within  its  shel- 
tering branches  a  safe  hiding  place  for  her  young. 
God  could  not  destroy  your  oak." 

"  You  are  always  so  generous  to  your  God,  Mar- 
garet. You  guard  His  reputation  as  carefully  as 
though  He  were  your  best  friend.  I  wonder  if  He 
is  any  relation  to  Sarah's  God  who  is  so  easily  of- 
fended and  retaliates  by  pouring  vengeance  on  the 
miscreant's  head." 

"  What  nonsense  you  can  think  of,  dear,"  Mar- 
garet replied,  smiling;  "but  what  could  one  expect 
of  a  girl  on  her  wedding  day?  Pardon  me,  for  at- 
tempting to  take  you  into  the  depths  of  metaphysics, 
from  whose  realm  even  '  stern  men  with  empires  in 
their  brains '  hold  aloof.  Only  this,  dear  child," 
she  said,  as  Donald  appeared  at  the  gate,  "  I  wish 
you  and  Donald  knew  my  God,  who  is,  as  you  say, 
my  best  friend,  the  friend  who  never  fails  me  and 
who  knows  my  needs  before  I  ask  to  have  them 
supplied," —  and  she  left  me  with  a  loving  pat. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  69 

Donald  stood  in  the  doorway  with  a  face  that 
seemed  to  have  brought  the  sunshine  indoors. 
Coming  quickly  to  my  side,  he  tool:  my  face  be- 
tween his  hands.  He  looked  long  and  intently  into 
my  eyes,  holding  them  with  the  passionate  glow  of 
his  own.  "  Are  you  happy  today,  sweetheart?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Yes,  Donald." 

"  And  contented  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Donald,"  again  I  replied,  as  a  child  that  has 
learned  its  lesson.  He  turned  away  half  impa- 
tiently. 

"  And  you,  dear,"  I  asked,  catching  his  arm ;  "  is 
this  a  happy  day  for  you,  and  are  you  contented?  " 

He  turned  to  me,  his  face  in  a  glow  of  tender- 
ness :  "  Words  fail  to  express  how  happy  I  am, 
Katheryne.  I  cannot  believe  that  you  are  going 
away  with  me  tonight  to  be  with  me  forevermore. 
It  seems  like  a  dream  of  some  impossible  thing, 
from  which  I  shall  soon  awake.  '  And  contented/ 
you  ask?  Why,  yes,  dear,  why  should  I  not  be? 
Will  you  not  be  my  wife  when  the  clock  strikes 
twelve?" 

We  walked  to  the  window  and  stood,  hand  in 
hand,  looking  down  into  the  garden.  "  Your  poor, 
broken  oak,"  Donald  said,  regretfully. 

"  I  miss  it  so,"  I  replied.  "  It  was  the  back- 
ground of  my  garden  and  it  always  reminded  me  of 
you,  dear,  so  sturdy  and  strong,  and  just  as  un- 
bending," I  laughed,  glancing  shyly  at  him  —  a  little 


70  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

chill  of  fear  creeping  in  as  though  I  were  taking 
liberties  with  a  stranger. 

"  Am  I  unbending,  Katheryne  ?  I  always 
thought  I  was  the  meekest  of  men.  I  surely  yield 
to  all  your  demands,  dearest." 

"  That  remains  to  be  proven,  my  self-contained 
man,"  I  answered.  "  You  will  have  to  open  up 
your  thought-world  to  me  more  freely  than  you 
have  done  in  the  past  if  you  wish  to  convince  me  of 
my  power  over  your  life.  You  make  me  think  of 
something  rare  and  precious  bottled  and  corked 
securely  for  fear  of  losing  its  fragrance.  I  grow 
weary  of  hearing  only  about  myself,  and  besides, 
you  are  cultivating  egoism,  a  bad  asset  for  a  wife,  I 
am  told." 

"  You  are  the  sweetest  subject  I  can  think  of, 
sweetheart,"  he  replied ;  "  and  to  speak  true,  I  have 
no  other  thoughts  when  you  are  with  me.  My 
mind  is  filled  almost  to  bursting  with  the  aroma  of 
your  presence." 

"  If  you  tell  me  that  a  year  from  now,  Donald,  I 
will  believe  you.  If  you  bring  me  to  this  window 
and  we  stand  looking  down  into  the  garden  as  we 
are  now,  with  your  arms  about  me  and  your  face  all 
sparkling  with  love-glints,  and  tell  me  I  am  the  one 
woman  in  all  the  world  to  you,  I  will  believe  all  you 
tell  me.  But,  beware!  If  there  is  the  slightest 
change,  even  in  inflection,  I  will  recognize  it  and 
know  your  words  today  were  only  a  lover's  dream." 

"  I   take   the  challenge   gladly,   dear  heart,   and 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  71 

only  wish  you  would  give  me  some  words,  as  well, 
to  cherish  from  our  wedding  day." 

"  You  dear  laddie,  let  me  think,  what  can  I  say  ? 
—  First  stoop  down  and  let  me  kiss  your  dear  eyes 
that  are  glowing  with  such  beautiful  love-light. 
Now  keep  them  closed  while  I  tell  you  how  sweet 
your  words  of  love  are  to  me,  and  —  dear,  it  does 
fill  me  with  pride  to  have  been  chosen  as  the  woman 
you  love  and  desire  for  your  wife,  and  truly,  there 
is  no  man  in  all  the  world  who  is  your  equal.  And, 
oh,  Donald,"  I  continued,  from  the  circle  of  his 
arms,  "  are  you  not  glad  that  this  is  to  be  our  home 
always?  Think  how  lonely  all  these  lovely  grow- 
ing things  would  be  without  me,  and  you  may  be 
sure  they  will  soon  adopt  you  as  a  part  of  their  own 
particular  landscape.  I  am  so  grateful  to  you  for 
letting  me  have  my  own  way.  I  think  that  was 
when  I  began  to  love  you,  when  you  consented  to 
share  my  garden  throne.  You  will  soon  love  it  for 
its  own  sake  and  wonder  how  you  could  have 
thought  of  living  elsewhere." 

Here  Sarah  came  to  announce  that  it  was  time  to 
dress.  Holding  Donald  back  a  moment  at  the 
door  — "  You'll  be  very  kind  to  her,  Mr.  Donald," 
she  said,  entreatingly. 

"  Yes,  Sarah,"  he  replied,  earnestly.  "  I  will 
cherish  her  more  than  life  itself,  and  I  trust  that 
you  will  remind  me  if  I  ever  fail  her." 

Dear  Special  Friend,  linking  her  arm  in  mine, 
carried  me  to  my  room  where  she  dressed  me  as 


72  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

she  would  dress  a  child,  then  led  me  to  a  mirror  and 
bade  me  look.  I  looked  as  at  someone,  not  myself. 
The  picture,  I  must  confess,  was  beautiful  and  al- 
luring. A  thrill  of  pleasure  passed  through  me  that 
I  had  beauty  to  bestow  upon  Donald. 

Strains  from  the  "  Rose  Maiden  "  now  rang  out, 
filling  the  air  with  joyousness,  the  voices  of  my 
friends  musically  announcing,  "  This  is  thy  wed- 
ding morning."  Then  Billy  came  for  me  and  led 
me  down  the  stairs,  drawn  by  the  enthralling  meas- 
ures of  the  Lohengrin  March,  to  the  beautiful 
flower  arch  in  the  dear  old  library,  where  Donald 
was  waiting  for  me. 

I  have  little  remembrance  of  the  rest  —  the 
simple  ceremony,  only  fragments  of  which  pene- 
trated to  my  confused  senses.  My  hand  rested  in 
Donald's ;  the  golden  circlet  slipped  over  my  finger, 
with  the  words  "  With  this  ring  I  thee  wed,  and 
with  all  my  worldly  goods  I  thee  endow  " — "  In 
the  name  of  the  Father  and  the  Son  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  Amen ! "  Then  came  the  prayer,  "  Our 
Father,"  followed  by  the  solemn  injunction,  "  Those 
whom  God  hath  joined  together,  let  no  man  put 
asunder  " —  the  pronouncement  of  "  husband  and 
wife  " —  and  the  final  blessing,  "  God  preserve  and 
keep  you."  Then  Donald's  glowing  face  was  bend- 
ing over  me,  his  warm  kiss  was  on  my  lips  and  his 
voice  gently  whispered,  "my  wife;"  then  friends 
were  clasping  both  hands,  kisses,  congratulations 
and  good  wishes  fell  upon  us  like  rain;  then  all 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  73 

was  confusion,  merriment  and  feasting.  The  day 
quickly  passed  and  we  were  off  for  the  City  to  a 
friend's  house,  and  a  reception.  The  faces  of 
friends,  of  acquaintances,  the  music,  the  flowers,  the 
gifts,  all  seem  a  jumble  of  memory. 

Then  it  was  time  to  dress  for  going  away,  then 
train  time,  and  then  we  were  all  gathered  on  the 
platform.  Such  a  jostling,  riotous  crowd  it  was! 
Showers  of  rice  descended  upon  us,  bunches  of 
roses  were  hurled  at  our  heads;  then  a  merry 
scramble  for  the  spoils  —  for  a  rose  that  had  touched 
the  bride.  We  saw  our  trunks  appear,  decorated 
with  old  shoes,  and  all  the  announcements  the  in- 
genious mind  of  man  can  conceive  for  the  newly- 
weds —  the  last  tender  mercies  of  our  friends. 
But,  someway,  nothing  offended  or  abashed.  I  was 
still  in  that  confused,  dreamy  state  of  mind,  doing 
as  I  was  told,  allowing  others  to  think  for  me. 
Then. we  were  on  the  train,  the  crowd  shouting  at 
the  window.  Dear  Special  Friend  gave  me  a  cheery 
hug :  "  God  keep  you,  dear,  and  direct  your  path," 
she  said.  Then  my  face  was  between  Billy's  hands : 
"  Dear  Little  Heartsease,  that  you  and  Donald  may 
always  be  as  happy  as  you  are  tonight,  is  my  fervent 
wish,"  and  he  kissed  my  forehead.  A  hearty  hand- 
shake to  Donald,  and  they  were  gone.  Our  train 
slid  into  the  night  and  Donald  and  I  were  alone. 


CHAPTER  XI 

OCTOBER. 

MORE  than  two  weeks  since  I  left  that  merry 
crowd  of  friends  on  the  home  platform  to 
go  with  Donald  into  an  unknown  world,  a  world 
which  the  fancies  of  youth  picture  as  alluring  and 
beautiful  —  a  world  of  freedom,  not  realizing  that 
it  is  an  unexplored  country  in  which  pitfalls  and 
dangers  lurk,  as  well  as  great  pleasures.  Youth 
never  allows  the  realities  of  life  to  paint  themselves 
upon  its  fair  lens,  to  darken  the  bright  pictures  of 
hope.  Only  experience  teaches  us  that  as  it  takes 
intense  heat  to  merge  two  metals  into  one,  so  it 
takes  years  of  life  together,  and  fiery  furnaces,  to 
merge  two  beings  into  one. 

When  the  girl  is  submerged  into  the  wife,  a  cer- 
tain brightness  disappears,  like  a  mist,  so  elusive  it 
can  hardly  be  discerned.  And  the  woman  takes  on 
a  shadow  just  as  elusive  —  of  wistfulness.  Is  it 
wistfulness  for  the  future  of  the  lives  for  which  she 
may  be  responsible?  Or,  if  there  are  no  new  lives, 
a  wistfulness  for  the  lost  motherhood,  the  closed 
door  of  wonderful  possibilities  —  a  door  too  often 
closed  by  her  own  hand,  and  behind  which  the  rich- 
est gifts  of  life  are  hidden? 

74 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  75 

Whenever  I  approach  my  little  confidante  I  find 
myself  straying  into  a  philosophic  strain,  and  yet,  I 
started  to  tell  you  of  our  wedding  journey  —  our 
honeymoon. 

Donald  and  I  have  had  a  happy  two  weeks  to- 
gether. We  took  a  circuitous  route  to  the  "  City 
among  the  Clouds,"  a  seventy-two  hour  ride  to  the 
coast  of  Southern  California,  over  that  trackless 
waste,  where,  a  short  fifty  years  ago,  the  traveler, 
once  launched  on  his  weeks  of  hard  travel,  had  no 
assurance  of  reaching  his  destination ;  he  knew  not 
whether  he  would  fall  under  the  cruel  tomahawk  of 
the  blood-thristy  Apache,  or  sink,  exhausted  and 
dying  of  thirst,  in  the  "  Valley  of  Death."  Now, 
so  wonderful  are  the  resources  of  man,  that  in 
luxury  and  comfort  the  trip  is  made  in  a  few  hours. 

We  made  a  flying  journey  to  points  of  interest 
through  Southern  California,  only  pausing  now  and 
again,  like  "  birds  of  passage,"  for  a  few  hours  of 
rest  and  sightseeing ;  for  we  were  due  —  or  rather, 
Donald  was  —  so  easily  and  quickly  have  I  fallen 
into  the  plural  phrase  —  at  an  early  date  in  the 
mountain  city.  Our  honeymoon  is  combined  with 
business ;  but  we  have  promised  ourselves  a  winter 
in  the  near  future  in  this  most  charming  of  coun- 
tries, where  the  departing  glories  of  a  past  civiliza- 
tion pause  to  look  sorrowfully  down  upon  the 
powers  of  the  present,  knowing  that  they,  too,  must 
yield  their  place  to  the  advancing  millions.  The 
ages-old  fact  that  it  is  pleasant  to  keep  in  the  back- 


76  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

ground,  is  accentuated  in  this  country  of  many  in- 
terests—  one  cannot  get  away  from  it  —  where  one 
finds  so  strange  a  mingling  of  the  old  and  the  new. 

As  we  sauntered  through  the  sunny  gardens  of 
the  old  Missions  with  their  air  of  antiquity  and 
grandeur,  presided  over  by  the  meek  and  gentle 
monks,  it  was  easy  to  glide  into  dreams  of  the  past, 
when  these  picturesque  stone  piles  were  the  pivot  of 
power,  swaying  the  Spanish  noblemen  and  the  pros- 
perous Indians  at  will.  And,  as  the  dream  expands 
—  Ramona,  beautiful,  self-sacrificing  Ramona,  ap- 
pears —  now  in  the  beauty  and  promise  of  girlhood, 
domineered  over  by  the  stern  Senorita;  again,  the 
thrall  of  a  mighty  love,  a  happy  wife  and  mother; 
and  then,  the  seeming  victim  of  fate,  her  sad  wan- 
derings in  search  of  home  and  quiet  begin,  reaching 
over  years  of  loneliness  and  misery  and  squalor, 
with  her  great  love  shining  as  a  beacon  light  through 
it  all,  lightening  the  burdens.  We  turn  from  these 
scenes  with  tear-filled  eyes  and  look  with  gladness 
at  the  calm  happiness  of  her  later  years;  and 
awaken  at  last  to  realize  that  we  are  standing  in  the 
well-nigh  deserted  garden,  the  affluence,  the  power, 
the  actors  —  all  are  gone!  As  we  turned  away,  I 
felt  a  sense  of  unreality  and  sadness  stealing  over 
me;  the  modernity  seemed  glaring  and  flaunting 
against  the  background  of  the  softened  past. 

In  our  northward  flight,  we  crossed  the  "  Painted 
Deserts,"  our  thoughts  reverting  to  the  brave  men, 
the  unrewarded  heroes,  who  gave  their  lives  in  their 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  77 

efforts  to  cross  this  arid  waste,  that  they  might  sub- 
due the  fertile  lands  beyond.  Where  Spaniard  and 
American  alike  left  their  bones  bleaching  in  the 
sun,  when  they  had  gone  out  so  gayly,  so  hopefully, 
in  their  search  for  glittering  gold. 

Both  Donald  and  I  having  a  love  for  nature  un- 
touched by  the  hand  of  progress,  and  of  all  things 
primitive  —  even  primitive  man  —  left  the  train  at 
the  Pueblo  village  of  Leguna,  to  make  a  detour  into 
the  interior  to  visit  Acoma.  We  found  a  wagon 
waiting  to  carry  passengers  across  the  country,  a 
ride  long  to  be  remembered.  We  rapidly  passed 
across  wide  stretches  of  almost  level  prairie,  fas- 
cinating to  the  lover  of  nature's  blending  colors, 
in  their  rich  shades  of  brown  and  green  and  orange, 
while  the  distant  mountains  stood  serene  and 
majestic  in  the  morning's  amethyst  light.  When  a 
few  hours  out,  we  had  our  first  view  of  that  "  no- 
blest single  rock  in  America,"  the  Enchanted  Mesa, 
a  pink-tinted  pile  of  perfect  symmetry,  looming  in 
the  distance,  rising  perpendicular  and  uniform  four 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  plain,  and  con- 
tinually changing  form  as  one  beholds  it  from  dif- 
ferent points  of  view.  Upon  near  approach  we 
found  it  circular  in  form,  suggesting  an  old  Roman 
Coliseum,  with  inaccessible  heights.  To  the  peo- 
ple of  Acoma  it  is  the  "  Haunted  Mesa."  Cen- 
turies ago,  the  legend  runs,  this  formidable  pile  was 
occupied  by  a  Pueblo  village,  the  women  holding 
the  heights  while  the  men  worked  the  plains  below. 


78  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

One  day  when  all  the  men  were  at  work,  an  earth- 
quake shock  filled  with  rock  the  only  available 
means  of  ascent  or  descent,  and  the  women  and 
children  of  the  village  were  thus  left  stranded  in 
mid-air;  their  friends  being  unable  to  rescue  them, 
they  perished  by  starvation  and  the  dust  of  their 
bones  was  blown  to  enrich  the  plains  below. 

Soon  after  leaving  this  enchanted  palace  of  rock, 
we  came  in  sight  of  that  strange  "  City  of  the  sky," 
the  village  of  Acoma,  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
above  the  plain.  We  ascended  a  winding  path, 
flanked  by  frowning  cliffs.  On  reaching  the  sum- 
mit, we  found  lying  before  us,  on  what  seemed  to 
be  "  an  island  of  the  air,"  a  perfect  specimen  of  the 
civilization  found  here  by  Coronado  almost  four 
hundred  years  ago.  It  is  difficult  to  describe  the 
feeling  one  has  in  looking  from  that  height  over  the 
barren  plain,  then  back  to  the  fortress-like  build- 
ings, still  more  barren,  perched  like  an  eagle's  eyrie 
on  the  topmost  ledge.  It  tells  of  a  time  of  fear  and 
watchfulness,  of  man  at  bay,  a  last  hope  of  life. 
I  grasped  Donald's  arm  and  clung  close  to  him. 
"  To  think,"  I  exclaimed,  "  of  these  people  living 
here  generation  after  generation,  carrying  up  that 
steep  ascent  even  the  dirt  in  which  they  bury 
their  dead  —  a  life  of  privation  and  drudgery! 
What  had  kept  them  alive  ?  What  hope  had  they  ?  " 

"  The  love  and  hope  of  life,"  Donald  replied ; 
"  the  same  that  keeps  us  all  alive,  only  our  standards 
differ." 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  79 

We  entered  from  the  top  a  number  of  these  cell- 
like  homes,  in  which  were  neither  stoves  nor  beds, 
the  sun  sufficing  for  heat  and  the  roof  and  a  blanket 
for  rest  and  sleep.  Little  food  is  required  in  these 
warm  climates ;  a  little  fruit,  a  little  bread  and 
coffee,  and  hunger  is  appeased.  The  floors  of  these 
one  room  houses  were  bare,  and,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  clean. 

We  found  among  this  primitive  people,  woman's 
right  of  property  firmly  established.  She  is  com- 
plete owner  of  her  apartment,  or  home,  and  its  con- 
tents. As  the  guide  gave  us  this  information,  Don- 
ald, with  a  quizzical  smile,  stooped  to  look  under  my 
hat  brim  into  my  eyes.  "  Surely,  Katheryne,"  he 
said,  "  you  are  a  descendant  of  the  Moquas." 

"  And  should  her  husband  ill-treat  her,"  the  guide 
continued,  "  she  has  the  right  to  evict  him." 

"  Now,  you  see,  dearie,"  Donald  whispered,  "  why 
I  objected  to  going  into  your  house." 

"  What  a  wise  provision,"  I  returned,  "  for  the 
protection  of  woman.  A  law  unto  herself,  and 
much  more  effective,  I  venture  to  say,  than  the 
divorce  law." 

"  The  children  also  take  the  mother's  name  in- 
stead of  the  father's,"  the  guide  informed  us. 

"  Surely,"  Donald  exclaimed,  "  this  is  the  place 
of  ideas  for  the  woman  who  would  dominate  man." 

We  lingered  sometime  in  this  wonderful  village, 
which  prides  itself  upon  being  self-supporting.  We 
were  too  late  to  witness  the  revolting  "  snake  dance," 


80  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

which  Donald  regretted  exceedingly,  the  rehearsal 
of  which  was  quite  enough  for  me  and  destroyed  my 
appetite  for  dinner. 

We  left  Acoma  feeling  that  the  curtains  of  the 
past  had  parted,  giving  us  a  look  backward  —  cen- 
turies back  —  even  to  a  time  preceding  the  arrival 
of  the  first  Spaniards. 

Our  next  objective  point  was  the  Grand  Canyon, 
that  Canyon  which  one  writer  describes  as  "  Nature 
wounded  unto  death  and  lying  stiff  and  ghastly, 
with  a  gash  two  hundred  miles  in  length  and  a  mile 
in  depth  in  her  bared  breast,  from  which  is  flowing 
fast  a  stream  of  life-blood  called  the  Colorado." 
Words  cannot  describe  the  grandeur  of  that  won- 
derful opening  in  the  earth's  surface.  As  one 
stands  spell-bound,  speechless,  with  that  mighty 
silence  brooding  over  all,  gazing  down  into  abysmal 
depths,  or  up  at  gigantic  temples  peering  into  the 
clouds,  one  questions  —  did  nature,  in  the  beginning 
of  time,  in  one  of  her  most  serious,  energetic  moods, 
create  these  heights  and  depths  as  a  recruiting 
ground  for  her  winds,  her  cyclones,  her  earthquakes, 
her  everything  that  is  violent  ?  Surely  nothing  mild 
could  come  from  such  an  awe-inspiring  source! 
Or,  was  this  wonder  created  in  a  sportive  mood 
when  youthful  energies  must  find  a  vent?  Or,  to 
prove  to  her  enemy,  water,  how  helpless  he  was 
when  enclosed  by  rocky  precipices? 

We  turned  from  the  majestic  scene  with  heaving 
bosoms  and  in  silence,  my  heart  throbbing  in  breath- 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  81 

less  awe,  and  with  the  fervent  desire  that  I  might 
once  again  stand  upon  the  edge  of  that  stupendous 
gorge  and  behold  the  wonders  of  earth  and  sky  and 
air. 


CHAPTER  XII 

OCTOBER. 

TEN  days  ago,  weary  with  rapid  traveling,  we 
arrived  in  America's  "  Scenic  Playground," 
and  ideal  place  for  outdoor  life.  Nowhere,  within 
the  same  area,  is  there  so  great  a  variety  of  won- 
derful scenery,  as  in  the  vicinity  of  this  beautiful 
mountain  city. 

I  have  been  much  alone  here,  Donald's  time  being 
completely  filled  with  the  case  in  hand.  I  sat  in  the 
courtroom  the  other  day  while  he  was  pleading  his 
case  and  my  heart  swelled  with  pride  at  his  masterly 
way,  his  intense  earnestness,  his  brilliant  oratory. 

Donald's  client,  a  boyhood  acquaintance,  the  son 
of  a  man  who  had  been  a  life-long  employee  of  his 
father,  is  being  tried  for  wife-murder.  He  is  a 
ranchman.  His  wife,  so  rumor  said,  was  querulous. 
She  disliked  the  country,  made  no  friends  and  was 
very  lonely,  consequently,  nagged  her  husband  and 
made  life  a  burden  for  both.  One  day,  when  he 
was  in  the  city,  she  was  found  dead  on  her  door- 
step. The  public,  knowing  how  discordant  they 
were,  immediately  suspected  him  of  the  crime  and 
have  woven  such  a  web  of  circumstantial  evidence 
about  him  that  there  seems  no  possible  hope  of  his 

82 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  83 

escape.  Yet,  Donald  believes  him  innocent.  He 
says  that  no  man  could  have  the  look  and  actions 
and  atmosphere  that  this  man  has  when  he  tells  his 
story,  and  be  guilty.  Yet  the  man  himself  has  no 
theory  to  advance  as  to  how  his  wife  met  her  death. 
She  was  shot  through  the  heart  and  no  gun  in  sight. 
The  man  is  disliked  by  his  neighbors  and  receives 
little  sympathy.  A  hard  case,  and  seemingly  a 
hopeless  one.  But  Donald  will  not  yield,  he  is  so 
sure  that  something  will  develop  to  bring  the  real 
criminal  to  justice. 

I  HAVE  enjoyed  my  wanderings  alone  about  the 
city  and  have  quite  a  collection  of  curios  to  take 
home.  These  have  been  such  perfect  days.  We 
feel  that  we  have  solved  the  problem  of  ennui  in 
the  new  relation  —  we  have  had  no  time  hanging 
heavily  upon  our  hands ;  we  have  each  gone  our  way, 
parting  in  the  morning  to  meet  at  dinner,  where  the 
day's  story  is  related;  a  joyous  evening  at  the 
theater,  in  the  shops,  or  sometimes,  just  aimlessly 
wandering  about  the  streets,  with  a  lunch,  perhaps, 
at  some  out  of  the  way  place. 

I  HAD  such  a  happy  surprise  today.  I  was  strol- 
ling leisurely  along,  enjoying  the  sunshine  and  hav- 
ing a  good  time  doing  nothing,  when  suddenly  some- 
one called :  "  Katheryne,  Katheryne  Forbes !  " — 
and  turning,  I  found  myself  facing  Mary  and  Jim 
Martin,  two  college  friends  and  classmates.  They 


84  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

had  married  immediately  after  graduation,  three 
years  before,  and  I  had  known  nothing  of  them 
since. 

"  Katheryne  Forbes  no  longer,"  I  laughed. 

"What,  a  honeymoon  among  our  mountains?" 
Jim  asked. 

"  Just  that,"  I  replied. 

"  Not  alone,  surely !  "  they  exclaimed,  in  chorus. 

"  Much  of  the  time.  Mr.  Gore  is  here  on  busi- 
ness." 

"  Gore !  "  Jim  asked,  surprised.  "  Not  Donald 
Gore?" 

"  Right,  as  you  always  are,  Jim." 

"  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  Katheryne,"  he 
said.  "  You  have  landed  a  big  fish.  The  press 
was  loud  in  praise  of  the  brilliant  young  lawyer  con- 
nected with  the  famous  Kearns'  case  last  summer, 
but  he  has  no  chance,  whatever,  of  winning.  The 
man  is  guilty,  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt.  Too 
bad  Mr.  Gore's  talent  is  not  engaged  in  a  better 
cause." 

I  felt  my  face  flush  with  pride  at  this  generous 
praise  of  my  husband,  and  replied :  "  Donald  be- 
lieves absolutely  in  the  man's  innocence  —  he  has 
never  questioned  it.  He  is  determined  to  win." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know,"  Jim  laughed,  "  Quixotic 
ideas,  boyhood  friend,  and  all  that.  But  no  use, 

Katheryne ;  the  man's  as  guilty  as  h .  Pardon, 

me,  girls,  but  I  detest  the  man.  Let  us  drop  the 
subject.  I  am  not  responsible  for  my  words  when 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  85 

Tom  Kearns  is  under  discussion.  What  are  your 
plans  for  the  day,  Mrs.  Gore  ?  " 

"  She  is  going  home  with  us,  of  course,"  Mary 
broke  in ;  "  and  Mr.  Gore  will  come  to  dinner  at  six, 
and  Strauss  '  Rosen  Kavilier '  tonight." 

This  sounded  so  like  the  practical,  decisive  Mary 
of  old,  that  my  heart  sang  with  happy  school-day 
memories.  "  I  am  only  too  happy  to  place  myself 
in  your  keeping,  my  dear  Mary,"  I  said,  "  and  I  am 
sure  Donald  will  enjoy  the  plan." 

"  Then  I  will  leave  you,  girls,"  Jim  said.  "  I 
know  you  are  wild  to  get  me  out  of  the  way  so  you 
can  talk,  just  talk  and  talk."  With  a  smile  and  up- 
lifted hat,  he  was  gone  and  we  were  alone  for  a  long 
day  of  reminiscences. 

"  I  think  I  will  take  you  straightaway  home, 
Katheryne  —  you  say  you  have  seen  all  the  sights 
of  our  city  —  and  we  will  have  a  quiet  day  together. 
There  are  so  many  things  I  want  to  know.  How's 
Billy?" 

"  The  same  as  of  old,"  I  replied. 

"  How  envious  we  used  to  be  of  you,  Katheryne, 
when  you  first  came  to  the  dear  old  '  U,'  Such 
boxes  of  gorgeous  roses  as  came  to  you  every  few 
days,  and  candy  and  books !  But  after  Billy's  first 
visit  that  feeling  all  vanished  —  he  was  so  lovely  to 
all  your  friends.  It  must  have  been  a  comical  sight 
to  see  him  with  a  dozen  or  more  girls  in  tow  at  the 
theaters,  hotels  and  restaurants  —  but  what  a  treat 
for  us !  It  was  such  fun  to  drop  the  boys  when  Billy 


86  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

came.  Jim  says  that  even  yet  he  can  feel  the  in- 
tense desire  he  had  to  '  punch  that  old  duffer's 
head.' " 

"  He  is  just  the  same,"  I  replied.  "  I  can't  real- 
ize what  life  would  be  without  Billy  —  he  has  as- 
sumed guardianship  over  me  for  so  many  years." 

Here  we  arrived  at  Mary's  cottage  —  a  little  bun- 
galow nestling  among  vines  and  roses,  with  a  superb 
view  of  the  mountains. 

"  And  all  our  own,"  Mary  replied,  as  I  expressed 
my  admiration  of  the  charming  house  and  surround- 
ings. 

As  I  removed  my  wraps,  I  observed  on  Mary's 
table  a  little  book,  which  I  was  sure  was  a  fac-simile 
of  the  one  that  regulates  Dear  Special  Friend. 
Mary  caught  my  glance  and  her  face  lighted  with  a 
radiant  smile.  "  You,  too  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,"  I  replied,  almost  curtly.  "  It  means  noth- 
ing to  me;  it  seems  the  veriest  nonsense,  a  repeti- 
tion of  words  with  which  I  have  been  familiar  all 
my  life,  but  with  different  meanings  attributed  to 
them.  I  really  cannot  see  how  educated  people  can 
be  so  blind,  willing  to  be  hypnotized  by  this  strange 
belief.  I  do  not  care  to  hear  anything  about  it," 
—  and  I  really  almost  wished  that  I  had  not  met 
Mary. 

"  I  know,"  she  said,  patting  my  hand  — "  I  know 
just  your  position.  But  pardon  me,  Katheryne,  you 
are  too  dear  to  me  to  keep  quiet  on  the  subject.  I 
feel  that  I  must  tell  you  how  it  helped  me.  Such  a 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  87 

short  time  ago  I  felt  just  as  you  do  —  in  fact,  I  had 
this  little  book  with  me  all  the  time  I  was  in  school. 
Your  uplifted  brows  ask,  '  where  did  you  keep  it? ' 
In  the  bottom  of  my  trunk,  you  may  be  sure,  and  it 
was  never  opened.  It  was  unpopular  in  our  set,  you 
know ;  and  anyway,  it  didn't  mean  anything  to  me 
then." 

"  And  Jim,"  I  asked,  "  does  he  approve  of  it?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  laughed ;  "  he's  progressing  slowly, 
kicking  at  every  step.  All  men  are  mulish,  you 
know,  but  all  husbands,  if  their  wives  have  really 
imbibed  the  spirit  of  Truth,  take  the  teaching  of  this 
little  book  by  induction,  at  least.  They  can't  help 
it,  Katheryne;  it  is  so  loving,  so  wise,  so  practical, 
so  progressive  —  so  everything,  dear,  that  makes 
life  worth  the  living." 

I  gave  a  skeptical  laugh.  "  And  how  did  you  ac- 
quire all  this  wonderful  knowledge,  Mary,  if  I  may 
ask?" 

"  Like  every  one  else,"  she  replied,  sweetly  — 
"  when  I  had  a  need.  You  know  father  and  mother 
have  traveled  this  beautiful  road  ever  since,  years 
ago,  dear  old  Dad  was  rescued  from  drunkenness. 
I  can  see  by  your  eyes,  Katheryne,  that  you  think  me 
hard  in  my  expression.  The  drink  habit  was  no 
part  of  my  real  father,  only  evil  trying  to  master 
him,  which  was  overcome  by  God  —  Good  —  and 
destroyed,  and  only  the  real  man  remained.  Why 
should  I  shield  so  ruthless  an  enemy?  So  —  well 
—  when  Jim  and  I  were  married  and  leaving  mother 


88  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

and  all  the  rest,  mother  said :  '  I  have  very  little 
advice  to  give  you,  my  dear  child  —  only  this,  when 
discord  of  any  kind  arises  between  you  and  Jim, 
don't  bring  it  to  me,  dear,  or  any  other  friend  — 
take  it  to  God.  You  know  the  hard  road  Father 
and  I  traveled  to  find  God,  but  he  has  been  our  shield 
ever  since.  Life  will  not  always  be  smooth. 
Sooner  or  later,  you  and  Jim  will  find  little  barbs 
of  error  creeping  in  between  you  ' —  and  I  thought, 
'  how  little  mother  knows  Jim.'  '  Small  though 
they  be,'  she  said,  '  it  will  require  all  your  love  and 
wisdom  to  meet  them.  You  will  find  God  here, 
Mary,  whatever  your  problem  may  be  ' —  and  she 
pressed  this  little  book  between  my  hands  and 
clasped  them  tight,  then  kissed  my  lips  and  turned 
me  to  Jim.  Well,  need  came  much  more  quickly 
than  I  ever  dreamed  it  could  possibly  come,  and  in 
no  new  way,  either.  It  comes  to  most  wives  —  the 
money  question.  You  are  one  of  the  few  excep- 
tions, Katheryne,  for  you  have  your  own  income." 

I  smiled  as  I  remembered  my  difficulties  in  win- 
ning Donald  to  share  that  income. 

"  I  had  always  had  my  own  money,"  she  con- 
tinued — "  not  much,  to  be  sure,  but  my  very  own, 
to  plan  and  to  do  with  as  I  pleased  —  only,  I  must 
keep  within  that  amount.  After  we  were  married, 
I  never  had  any  money  that  I  could  scheme  to  spend 
in  a  dozen  ways  and  yet  make  it  cover  so  many 
needs,  as  women  love  to  do.  Jim  had  a  good  salary, 
but  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  a  wife  might 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  89 

want  a  separate  bank  account.  He  knew,  and  he 
thought  I  knew,  that  anything  I  wanted  within  our 
income,  I  could  have  willingly.  You  know  how 
generous  he  is,  always  bearing  more  than  his  share 
of  the  expense  in  our  college  merry-making  —  but 
this  very  method  of  living,  with  his  generous  tem- 
perament, I  could  see,  with  my  systematic  mind, 
might  lead  us  into  living  beyond  our  income.  Any- 
way, I  felt  like  an  irresponsible  child  to  whom 
money  was  doled  out  when  asked  for,  and  I  often 
went  without  things  that  I  really  needed  rather  than 
ask  for  the  required  amount. 

"  Thus  we  drifted  along  for  six  months,  until  I 
became  very  unhappy  and  discontented  and  at  last, 
carried  my  troubles  to  Jim — always  a  difficult  ques- 
tion for  husband  and  wife  to  discuss.  It  is  almost 
impossible  for  a  man  to  assume  business  relations 
with  his  wife.  Jim  could  not  see  my  position  in  any 
light  I  placed  it — felt  hurt  that  I  should  dislike  to 
ask  him  for  money,  saying  '  that  as  long  as  he  had 
a  penny,  half  of  it  was  mine.'  We  talked  and  talked 
without  arriving  at  any  understanding,  and  finally, 
I  was  hugged  and  kissed,  a  ten  dollar  bill  thrust  into 
my  hand,  and  the  question  dismissed,  Jim  feeling 
that  it  had  been  amicably  settled.  I  loved  Jim  too 
much  to  quarrel  with  him,  but  I  must  confess  I 
stamped  on  that  ten  dollar  bill  when  I  was  alone. 
'  Half  of  it  mine,  yes,  but  none  of  it  with  which  I 
could  plan,'  I  said  scornfully. 

"  So  we  drifted  along  another  six  months,  I  going 


90  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

more  and  more  without  things  I  needed,  and  Jim, 
with  his  man's  eyes,  never  seeing  my  needs.  I  used 
to  think  if  I  wore  a  hat  five  years,  Jim  wouldn't  know 
the  difference.  He  was  planning  more  and  more 
investments  and  I  was  trying  to  keep  up  my  end  of 
the  business  with  never  a  cent  of  money  passing 
through  my  hands,  only  as  I  asked  for  it.  Finally, 
one  day  when  I  was  unusually  depressed  and  mis- 
erable, trying  not  to  doubt  Jim's  love  and  thinking  of 
my  own  systematic  home  where  father  and  mother 
worked  together  as  partners,  in  money  matters  as  in 
everything  else,  suddenly  mother's  parting  words 
popped  into  my  head,  '  When  discord  of  any  kind 
arises  between  you  and  Jim,  take  it  to  God.' 

"  It  may  seem  strange  to  you,  Katheryne,  but  I 
did  not  doubt  for  an  instant  that  the  truth  which  I 
could  glean  from  that  little  book  would  solve  my 
problem,  if  I  sought  diligently — I  had  seen  it  solve 
mother's  problems — it  would  solve  mine.  I  did  not 
pause  a  moment.  My  little  book  that  had  before 
remained  unopened,  became  my  constant  counsellor. 
I  tried  to  see  the  perfect  man  in  Jim,  but  only  the 
faulty  man  appeared,  who  treated  his  wife  like  a 
child  and  kept  her  out  of  his  business  life,  giving 
her  kisses  in  lieu  of  an  allowance.  And  so,  for  a 
long  time,  I  made  little  progress,  but  I  had  had  a 
taste  of  this  wonderful  wisdom  and  knew,  if  I  had 
patience,  that  right  would  prevail. 

"  And  so,  it  gradually  came  about  that  Jim  would 
discuss  money  matters  with  me  as  though  I  really 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  91 

knew  things  and  as  though  I  really  might  be  a  coun- 
sellor as  well  as  wife;  and  here,  just  last  month,  the 
dear  fellow  yielded,  like  the  good  comrade  that 
he  is,  and  asked  me  how  much  I  wanted  a  month 
to  remain  his  housekeeper,  and  was  very  much  sur- 
prised at  my  modest  request :  '  Well,  well,  Mary,  all 
this  fuss  for  that  small  amount!  Why  didn't  you 
tell  me  long  ago  ?  '  But  I  kept  silent,  looked  at  him 
with  maternal  eyes  and  gave  him  a  choking  hug. 

"  These  great  boys,  Katheryne,  entrusted  to  our 
care,  we  don't  realize  what  a  responsibility  we  have, 
for  a  man  is  very  much  what  his  wife  makes  him. 
But  I  fear  I  have  tired  you  with  my  long  story  and 
have  forgotten,  entirely,  the  wonderful  surprise  I 
have  in  store  for  you,"  and  she  rushed  away  like  a 
small  whirlwind. 

I  had  heard  a  peculiar  noise  from  behind  the 
closed  door :  "  Mary  has  overcome  her  dislike  for 
cats,  probably,"  I  said  to  myself,  sarcastically,  "  with 
her  new-fangled  ideas — has  decided  to  let  an  Angora 
fill  the  place  a  baby  should  and  give  her  more  time 
for  reading.  Oh,  that  book,  someway,  with  its  inof- 
fensive look,  gets  on  my  nerves !  It  seems  to  be 
taking  possession  of  all  my  friends." 

Here  the  door  opened  and  Mary  appeared,  looking 
like  a  Madonna,  with  the  softest,  pinkest,  roly-poliest 
baby  in  her  arms  I  had  ever  beheld.  I  shrieked  with 
joy  and  surprise  and  rushed  at  her,  clasping  them 
both  tightly  in  my  arms,  but  instead  of  crying  with 
fright,  that  precious  baby  opened  his  toothless  mouth 


92  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

and  gave  Jim's  own  glad  smile.  I  went  down  on 
my  knees  in  rapture  before  that  cherub,  not  because 
he  was  Mary's  baby  and  a  beautiful  child,  but  just 
because  he  was  a  baby. 

What  a  joyous  day  we  had  with  him.  He  was 
not  a  theoretical  baby,  so  I  could  cuddle  and  rock 
and  sing  to  him  to  my  heart's  content,  even  kiss  his 
dimpled  arms  and  hands  and  neck.  So  Donald 
found  me  when  he  came  in  the  evening. 

"  You  never  looked  so  beautiful,  Katheryne,  as 
with  that  sleeping  child  in  your  arms,"  he  whis- 
pered, as  he  stooped  to  kiss  me. 

Donald  and  Jim  found  much  in  common  and 
became  friends  at  once,  although  I  could  see  that 
Donald  was  depressed  and  restless.  Tomorrow  was 
the  last  day  of  the  trial,  and  still  no  evidence  to 
prove  the  innocence  of  his  client — to  the  world  he 
remained  guilty — convicted,  as  far  as  "  public  opin- 
ion "  could  go,  of  wife  murder. 

The  evening  was  soon  passed.  After  the  theater 
we  said  goodnight  to  our  new-old  friends,  with  a 
promise  to  return  on  the  morrow,  as  Mary  and  I 
were  to  spend  a  part  of  the  day  in  the  court  room, 

As  WE  entered  our  hotel  we  were  approached  by 
a  nervous,  keen-eyed  man,  thin  almost  to  emacia- 
tion, and  visibly  trembling  with  some  emotion  :  "  Are 
you  Kearns'  lawyer?  "  he  asked,  bluntly. 

"  I  am,"  Donald  replied,  and  I  felt  the  tremor 
that  stirred  him. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  93 

"  I  want  to  see  you  alone,"  the  man  said,  with  a 
quick,  nervous  voice,  and  a  side  glance  at  me. 

"  Come  with  us  to  our  apartments,"  and  Donald 
led  the  way  up  the  stairs.  As  I  started  to  leave 
the  room,  on  our  arrival,  the  man  motioned  for  me 
to  remain. 

"Your  wife?"  he  questioned  of  Donald,  who 
nodded  assent.  "  All  the  world  will  know  my  story 
tomorrow,"  he  said ;  "  it  will  do  no  harm  for  you  to 
hear  it  tonight,  and  perhaps  your  woman's  heart  will 
understand  my  position  more  clearly  than  your  hus- 
band. It  is  but  a  simple  story,  after  all,  nothing  to 
shock  or  revolt  you." 

Then,  turning  abruptly  to  Donald':  "  You  be- 
lieve your  client  innocent,  Mr.  Gore  ? "  he  ques- 
tioned. 

"  I  do,"  Donald  replied.  "  I  have  never  for  a 
moment  considered  him  guilty.  I  believe  him  inno- 
cent in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  not  the  slightest 
clue  has  been  found  of  the  real  criminal ;  yet,  I 
almost  despair  of  proving  it.  Not  even  a  suspicion 
of  any  other  has  arisen.  Kearns,  himself  can  give 
no  suggestion  on  the  subject.  If  there  had  been  a 
weapon  near  we  might  prove  a  case  of  suicide,  but 
we  have  found  no  clue  whatever."  Something  in 
the  man  aroused  Donald  to  talk  freely. 

Leaning  forward,  his  breath  coming  in  gasps,  his 
eyes  burning  with  feverish  suffering :  "  I  have 
brought  you  the  solution,"  the  man  said,  with  trem- 
bling voice,  "  and  I  trust  you  will  be  my  friend,  for 


94  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

though  I  confess  myself  guilty  of  the  death  of  this 
woman,  I  am  as  innocent  as  your  client." 

We  sat  in  silence  while  he  mastered  his  emotion, 
the  breath  of  each  coming  quick  and  audible.  My 
heart  went  out  in  compassion  to  him.  I  felt  the 
truth  of  his  words;  I  longed  to  help  him.  At  last, 
he  was  able  to  proceed. 

"  I  will  make  my  story  as  short  as  possible ;  it  is 
too  painful  to  dwell  upon.  My  home  is  many  miles 
from  here  in  a  distant  state — it  matters  not  where. 
I  came  into  these  mountains  to  hunt  last  summer, 
and  one  day — this  fatal  day — the  trail  led  across 
Kearns'  ranch.  I  stopped  at  the  well — which  was 
unusually  near  the  house — for  a  drink.  The  woman 
came  to  the  door  to  speak  to  me  and  remained  stand- 
ing on  the  doorstep.  I  had  the  impression  of  a 
lonely  woman,  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  talk.  I 
leaned  my  loaded  gun  against  the  house  while  drink- 
ing, and  afterwards  stood  chatting  a  moment  with 
the  woman.  I  started  to  pick  up  my  gun,  when,  in 
some  mysterious  way,  the  trigger  caught  and  dis- 
charged the  load.  The  woman  was  in  range ;  the 
bullet  went  through  her  heart ;  she  was  dead  when 
I  reached  her.  Insane  fear  and  horror  took  pos- 
session of  me.  I  stumbled  headlong,  blindly,  furi- 
ously back  to  the  city,  and  immediately  left  for  my 
home,  where  I  have  lived  with  the  horror  of  that 
woman's  face  ever  before  my  eyes,  and  always  the 
haunting  fear  that  someone  might  have  been  a  wit- 
ness of  that  fatal  accident,  and  trace  me  down. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  95 

"  The  thought  of  some  one  else  being  held  respon- 
sible for  the  woman's  death  had  never  occurred  to 
me.  I  was  so  obsessed  by  my  own  suffering  and 
fear,  until,  only  last  week — by  one  of  those  strange 
coincidences,  surely  not  accidental — I  learned  of 
Kearns  being  tried  for  the  murder  of  his  wife.  It 
seemed  a  relief  to  do  something.  I  was  a  coward 
no  longer,  but  hurried  here  at  once.  It  has  been  a 
year  of  hell !  I  cannot  tell  you  what  it  means, 
what  a  relief  it  is,  to  share  this  terrible  secret  with 
another ; "  he  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and 
sobbed  aloud. 

"  A  strange  disclosure,"  Donald  said.  "Truly, 
facts  are  stranger  than  fiction." 

"  I  will  go  now,"  the  man  murmured,  rising. 
"  Think  over  my  situation  and,  for  God's  sake,  do 
what  you  can  for  me !  You  will  find  me  here  in 
the  morning." 

Donald  laid  his  hand  kindly  on  the  man's  shoulder. 
"I  believe  you  are  telling  me  the  truth,  man. 
Though  a  strange  story,  it  is  possible.  I  will  do  all 
in  my  power  to  have  justice  done."  He  grasped 
Donald's  hand  in  both  his  own,  too  full  of  emotion 
to  speak,  and  staggered  from  the  room. 

"  Life  is  a  tragedy,  Katheryne,"  Donald  said. 
"  Why  should  Fate  pay  this  poor  fellow  so  scurvy 
a  trick?  He  has  but  one  chance  in  a  thousand.  If 
he  can  but  touch  the  sympathetic  cord  in  the  heart 
of  that  jury,  all  will  be  well  with  him;  if  not,  the 
devil  will  be  to  pay.  Kearns  is  so  universally  dis- 


96  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

liked,  they  will  be  loth  to  let  him  go.  Only  this 
man's  unproven  story  between  him  and  the  noose — 
and  if  the  law  will  relinquish  its  clutch  upon  Kearns, 
what  will  be  the  fate  of  this  brave  fellow?  Only 
his  power  to  carry  the  truth  of  his  story  to  the  hearts 
of  those  jurymen  will  save  him." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

OCTOBER. 

ALL  night  Donald  tossed  restlessly  about, 
impelled  by  the  agitation  of  his  thoughts,  rising 
and  pacing  rapidly  up  and  down  the  room.  Neither 
did  I  sleep  until  near  morning;  nor  did  I  question 
nor  speak,  hoping  that  in  the  silence  of  the  night, 
just  the  right  thoughts  and  words  might  come  to 
him  to  help  liberate  this  victim  of  ruthless  fate.  I 
ceased  to  long  for  success  only  that  Donald  might 
win  a  famous  case,  as  had  been  my  attitude  up  to 
this  time,  and  thought  only  of  that  poor,  worn  face, 
the  trembling  hands,  the  burning  eyes  and  heart- 
rending sobs.  A  man's  tears  are  a  mark  of  such 
utter  helplessness,  coming  only  when  he  feels  alone, 
abandoned,  utterly  shorn  of  his  strength.  And  as 
I  reflected  on  these  two  men,  both  innocent  and  yet 
so  helpless,  the  law  seemed  a  Juggernaut  car,  strik- 
ing down  all  who  crossed  its  path.  Once  in  the 
grip  of  the  law,  it  never  again  quite  relinquishes  its 
hold.  If  the  lash  of  justice  once  descends,  so- 
ciety is  prone  to  wield  it  until  the  wound  is  beyond 
healing. 

I  seemed  to  have  but  closed  my  eyes  when  I 
97 


98  SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

became  conscious  that  Donald  was  standing,  dressed, 
beside  me.  In  the  early  morning  light  his  face 
looked  wan  and  haggard  from  the  long  night's  wres- 
tling, but  his  eyes  shone  with  hope  and  decisive  pur- 
pose. 

"  I  will  meet  you  in  the  dining  room  for  break- 
fast, Katheryne,"  he  said  abstractedly,  and  hurried 
away. 

I  dressed  quickly,  and  on  going  down,  found  him 
and  the  strange  man  in  earnest  conversation.  We 
went  into  breakfast  together — a  mere  farce,  how- 
ever, little  food  being  eaten.  The  stranger,  I 
observed,  ate  nothing.  I  remonstrated  with  him 
because  of  this,  but  he  waved  it  aside,  saying :  "  Food 
would  choke  me;  my  mind  is  too  full  of  misery  to 
leave  room  for  hunger." 

He  remained  but  a  few  moments  at  the  table, 
going  into  the  outer  hall,  where  we  found  him  later, 
striding  restlessly  back  and  forth  like  an  animal  in 
captivity ;  if  he  paused  for  a  moment,  his  hands 
twitched,  his  foot  tapped  the  floor,  his  eyes  shifted 
from  one  point  to  another — his  restless  spirit  gave 
him  no  peace. 

After  dinner,  I  went  to  the  court  room  with  them, 
where  Mary  and  Jim  joined  us.  We  found  the 
room  crowded  and  overflowing  into  the  hall,  an  ever 
moving  crowd,  pushing,  jostling,  for  the  point  of 
vantage — humanity  expressing  its  interest  in  a  fel- 
low-man. Donald  secured  places  for  us  near  the 
front,  and  as  we  were  seated,  I  heard  him  say  to 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  99 

the  stranger,  in  a  low  tone :  "  Remain  here  until  you 
are  called." 

We  sat  restless,  longing,  yet  fearing  to  have  the 
opening  preliminaries  over.  At  last,  the  counsel  for 
the  defense  was  called.  Donald  rose,  bowed  to  the 
Judge  and  in  clear,  terse,  short  sentences,  frequently 
interrupted  by  the  Judge,  outlined  the  case.  "  Gen- 
tlemen," he  said,  in  conclusion,  "  we  have  but  one 
fact  in  this  case,  and  that  is  that  the  prisoner's  wife 
met  her  death  by  a  bullet  passing  through  her  heart. 
No  one  saw  the  deed ;  the  woman  was  alone ;  no  gun 
was  found ;  and  yet,  without  any  evidence  whatever, 
because  the  law  demands  a  victim,  you  say  the  pris- 
oner is  guilty.  Gentlemen,  the  man  whom  the  pub- 
lic has  condemned,  and  would  destroy  on  circum- 
stantial evidence,  is  innocent." 

An  indrawn  breath  was  heard  throughout  the 
room,  a  shifting  of  position,  as  though  to  ease 
cramped  muscles :  "  The  guilty  man,  yet  innocent, 
will  speak  to  you ;  you  shall  hear  the  story  from  the 
lips  of  my  witness." 

Here  the  trembling,  pain-racked  man  at  my  side 
was  summoned  to  the  front.  With  an  effort,  as 
though  his  shaking  limbs  refused  to  bear  their  bur- 
den, he  arose,  and  with  downcast  head,  slowly 
wended  his  way  through  the  crowd.  Every  eye  was 
focused  upon  him.  A  deathlike  stillness  reigned 
about  that  sea  of  faces,  so  intensely  quiet  that  but 
one  man  seemed  to  live,  and  that,  the  stranger, 
slowly  making  his  way  through  the  path  opened  to 


100          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

him  by  the  waiting  mass.  As  he  entered  the  witness 
stand  and  stood  drooping  and  nerveless,  the  crowd 
wakened  to  life  again,  but  only  for  an  instant — 
that  leaning  forward,  listening  attitude  was  resumed 
as  the  stranger  was  sworn  in  and  Donald  began 
questioning  him. 

All  the  pitiful  tale  was  drawn  out — an  age,  it 
seemed  to  us,  sitting  in  that  tense  atmosphere. 
Slowly  the  words  came  from  the  man's  quivering 
lips.  He  was  making  a  visible,  supreme  effort  to 
control  his  emotion,  but  without  success.  His  voice 
grew  in  excitement,  as  Donald  drew  out  the  tragedy 
that  had  darkened  his  life,  until  it  was  almost  a 
shriek,  then  weakened  again  as  he  told  of  his  flight 
from  the  city,  and  of  his  rushing  back  to  save  a 
man  from  the  gallows.  But  no  amount  of  question- 
ing nor  cross-questioning  could  confuse  or  change 
his  story  and  he  was  finally  allowed  to  retire  from 
the  stand;  but  as  he  turned  to  go,  he  swayed, 
caught  himself,  swayed  again,  and  fell  in  a  dead 
faint.  Pent-up  feelings  now  had  full  sway.  They 
could  no  longer  be  controlled,  and  for  a  time  pan- 
demonium reigned.  Hate  and  excitement  had  too 
long  held  them  in  thrall,  it  must  have  expression; 
but,  finally,  order  was  restored,  the  stranger  was 
tenderly  lifted  and  carried  from  the  room.  The 
jury  stirred  uneasily,  surreptitiously  touched  their 
eyes  and  looked  from  one  to  the  other  question- 
ingly,  then  turned  to  the  counsel  for  the  state,  who 
had  arisen  with  a  contemptuous  smile  about  his  lips. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          101 

Addressing  the  Judge  and  jury,  he  began  with  a  sar- 
castic tirade  against  what  he  termed  Donald's  "  sen- 
timental appeal  to  the  jury,"  referred  to  the  defense 
as  "  too  thin  to  merit  consideration,  a  tale  from  Ara- 
bian Nights,  a  play  upon  the  Brotherhood  of  Man, 
which,"  he  thundered  forth,  "  could  not  be  consid- 
ered. The  law  must  be  obeyed ;  nothing  but  the  law 
must  be  taken  into  account."  He  referred  to  Don- 
ald as  a  youth,  who,  in  time,  "  would  cut  his  eye- 
teeth."  "  I  compliment  him,  I  think  it  highly  inge- 
nious of  him  to  bring  in  this  witness  at  the  eleventh 
hour,  but — the  law  must  take  its  course."  He  con- 
tinued :  "  My  friend  has  said  much  to  you — and  elo- 
quently, I  confess — in  defense  of  the  prisoner,  but 
this  Munchausen  tale  of  a  stranger  cannot  be  con- 
sidered, gentlemen."  He  spoke  cynically  of  "  grasp- 
ing at  straws — following  a  '  will-o'-the-wisp,'  "  and 
concluded  by  saying :  "  Truly,  gentlemen,  this  is  so 
preposterous  a  trickery  foisted  upon  us,  that  I  will 
not  weary  you  with  further  argument.  I  know  you 
will  attach  no  importance  to  such  pleading.  In 
short,  gentlemen,  I  trust  you  to  do  your  duty.  I 
regard  you  as  bound  to  record  a  verdict  of  guilty." 

I  searched  the  faces  in  that  jury  box  as  he  sat 
down,  to  read  the  impression  of  that  caustic  speech, 
but  could  learn  nothing. 

Then  Donald  was  speaking  again,  making  his  final 
plea  to  the  jury.  His  face  was  very  grave  and 
white.  Earnest  purpose  marked  his  every  move- 
ment— he  was  making  one  last  supreme  effort  to 


102          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

save  a  man's  life.  For  an  hour  he  talked,  holding 
that  crowded  court  room  as  under  a  spell.  Words 
poured  from  his  lips  like  molten  lava,  burning,  seeth- 
ing, convincing  words !  He  rehearsed  the  few  facts 
known  of  the  case ;  told  of  Kearns'  boyhood,  his  hon- 
esty, his  truthfulness,  his  tenderness  for  all  animal 
life  and  helpless  things;  related  incidents  of  their 
boyhood  together,  in  which  Kearns  had  always  been 
the  loyal,  unselfish  friend.  He  dwelt  at  length  on 
the  hatred  of  neighbors  for  his  client,  a  hatred  with- 
out foundation,  which  had  grown  from  a  land  trans- 
action in  which  Kearns  had  been  favored  instead 
of  themselves — the  hatred  of  maliciousness  and 
envy,  which  had  been  fed  and  nurtured  until  it  had 
extended  to  those  who  did  not  know  him,  even ; 
and  how  these  enemies  had  woven  such  a  net  about 
him,  inciting  the  public  to  fury  and  desire  for 
revenge,  until  only  an  angel  from  heaven  could  lib- 
erate him. 

"  And,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  pausing — and  in  that 
breathless  silence  I  could  hear  the  heartbeats  of 
those  about  me — "  the  angel  has  arrived,  or  at  least, 
he  seems  an  emissary  from  God.  You  have  heard 
from  his  own  lips  how  the  wife  of  my  client  met 
her  death. 

"  Gentlemen,  like  all  things  human, '  the  legal  pro- 
fession has  its  dark  as  well  as  its  bright  side ;  has 
in  it  germs  of  decay  and  rotten  foulness,  as  well  as 
of  health  and  beauty,'  and,  gentlemen,  no  side  is  so 
dark,  no  germ  so  foul,  no  condition  so  rotten  with 


103 


disease  as  the  condition  that  allows  a  man  to  be 
convicted  on  circumstantial  evidence.  Emerson 
tells  us,  '  Good  men  cannot  observe  the  law  too 
closely ;'  and,  gentlemen,  men  like  the  prisoner  are 
destroyed  daily  under  our  law,  because  Justice  cries 
for  an  object  on  which  to  wreak  her  vengeance. 

"  Gentlemen,"  Donald  concluded,  in  a  low,  intense 
voice,  "  you  saw  the  agitated  man  before  you ;  you 
looked  upon  his  despairing  face,  his  broken  body ; 
you  listened  to  his  story.  He  is,  by  his  own  con- 
fession, guilty !  Men,  '  Greater  love  hath  no  man 
than  this,  that  he  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends.' 
And  now,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  I  beg  of  you  not  to 
return  a  verdict  that  will  deprive  an  innocent  man 
of  life  and  liberty,  but  as  you  hope  for  justice  at 
the  Tribunal  of  God,  make  your  decisions." 

As  Donald  sat  down,  the  excitement  of  the  crowd 
rose  to  fever-heat,  suffocating  from  its  repression. 
It  swayed  and  moved  as  though  seeking  expression. 
A  sob  broke  from  some  over-wrought  woman,  adding 
to  the  super-charged  atmosphere  of  the  room. 
Soon,  however,  breathless  stillness  reigned  again. 
The  State's  Attorney  arose,  tipping  himself  forward 
on  his  toes  as  though  wishing  to  present  an  impos- 
ing figure,  and  presented  in  a  short,  acrimonious 
speech,  his  final  argument  to  the  jury.  Then  came 
the  Judge's  charge.  The  jury  retired  and  we  sat 
in  impatient  silence,  awaiting  the  return  of  that 
unchangeable  verdict.  They  were  gone  but  twenty 
minutes.  Every  breath  was  suspended  as  the 


104          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

spokesman  arose  to  deliver  the  verdict.  "  Not 
guilty!"  rang  out  over  that  anxious  crowd.  A 
pause,  as  though  an  effort  to  believe  their  ears — 
then  they  breathed  and  moved  and  lived  again; 
some  condemning,  some  rejoicing,  all  questioning 
what  the  verdict  would  mean  to  the  strange  man. 

The  stranger  recovered  from  his  faint  after  long 
hours  of  careful  nursing.  When  he  fully  realized 
that  his  sacrifice  had  not  been  in  vain,  that  the  pub- 
lic had  exonerated  the  prisoner  from  crime,  it 
affected  him  like  an  elixir  of  life.  Fear  for  himself 
seemed  to  have  vanished.  The  State  accepted  the 
story  as  he  had  given  it,  and  he  was  liberated.  He 
disappeared  from  our  life  as  suddenly  as  he  had 
come  into  it. 

Kearns  was  full  of  gratitude  to  Donald  for  his 
liberty  and  told  us  that  he  would  leave  that  part 
of  the  country  as  soon  as  he  could  dispose  of  his 
property ;  said  there  could  be  no  happiness  in  a  place 
so  filled  with  sad  memories. 

We  were  both  eager  to  return  home,  but  at  the 
earnest  solicitation  of  Mary  and  Jim,  decided  to 
spend  one  day  in  the  "  Garden  of  the  Gods,"  as 
Donald  had  been  too  much  occupied  to  make  any 
excursions  into  the  mountains.  . 

A  wonderful  day  it  was !  Filled  with  pictures  of 
Nature's  handiwork !  Giving  us  another  wonder- 
ful picture  to  hang  in  memory's  gallery,  and  a  pleas- 
ant ending  to  a  honeymoon,  filled  with  varied  ex- 
periences. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

OCTOBER. 

WE  arrived  home  last  evening  —  just  a  month 
from  the  day  of  our  wedding.  I  was  so 
thrilled  with  joy  and  anticipation  at  the  thought  of 
being  in  my  own  dear  home  again  that  our  train 
seemed  to  take  a  snail's  pace,  the  wheels  murmuring 
just  such  nonsensical  thing  to  my  ears  as  the  crea- 
tures in  "  Wonderland  "  did  to  Alice :  "  Put  on  the 
brakes,  Katheryne,  put  on  the  brakes,"  they  kept 
muttering  — "  Don't  hurry  us  so,  steady  there,  steady 
now,"  and  my  nerves  grew  quite  unruly  with  my 
thoughts  traveling  so  much  faster  than  the  wheels. 
And  when,  at  last,  our  train  did  deposit  us  in  our 
"  ain  Countrie,"  Mike's  full-moon  face,  wreathed 
in  its  gilt-edged,  stubby  beard,  was  the  first  to  meet 
our  eyes.  We  had  given  orders  that  no  one  was  to 
know  of  our  coming,  so  our  arrival  was  made  in 
quietness  and  peace. 

"  Sure,  and  it's  the  glad  b'y  I  am,  to  see  ye're  bon- 
nie  face  again,  Miss  Katheryne,"  Mike  said,  as  he 
took  my  hand  and  reached  for  the  luggage  carried 
by  Donald.  "  Jack's  been  pinin'  and  like  to  die, 
ye're  gone  so  long.  And  Oi'll  be  glad,  indade,  Mr. 
105 


106          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

Gore,  to  share  the  honors  of  Rosedale  with  anither 
mon."  Oh,  how  good  that  caressing  brogue 
sounded. 

Arriving  at  Rosedale,  Jack's  quick  ear  and  keen 
scent  told  him  his  mistress  was  near  almost  before 
we  entered  the  gates  —  and  such  ecstatic  barks ! 
Such  leaping  and  apologizing!  I  was  almost  over- 
whelmed by  his  violent  embrace,  and  for  once  in 
his  life  he  forgot  his  manners  and  my  likes  and 
dislikes,  and  touched  my  face  again  and  again  with 
his  broad,  red  tongue. 

And  there  was  Sarah,  with  her  comfortable 
figure  almost  filling  the  doorway,  extending  welcom- 
ing arms  into  which  I  rushed.  "  My  dear,  dear 
Sarah,"  I  cried,  "  I  never  was  so  glad  to  get  back 
to  you !" 

"  Nor  I  to  have  you  back,  child,"  she  replied ; 
"  the  days  have  been  long,  indeed,  since  you  went 
away.  And,  Mr.  Donald,  welcome  you  are,"  she 
said,  clasping  his  hand  in  both  her  own. 

Even  Topsy,  with  languid  grace  and  an  air  of 
condescension,  advanced  to  meet  us,  arching  her 
back  against  my  gown,  careful,  as  usual,  to  rub  her 
satin  coat  the  right  way.  No  loss  of  dignity  here 
in  greeting  her  mistress!  But  she  received  the 
hug  she  sought,  much  to  Jack's  disgust,  his  eyes 
seeming  to  say :  "  How  can  you  waste  affection  on 
such  a  cold,  heartless  creature  ?" 

Sarah  had  one  of  her  dainty  lunches  prepared 
for  us  —  just  the  things  each  of  us  liked  best. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  107 

"  Doesn't  it  seem  just  like  coming  home  to  you, 
Donald  ?  "  I  asked,  as  I  looked  at  him  with  beam- 
ing eyes  across  our  very  own  table  —  Sarah  had 
been  so  careful  to  include  him  in  all  the  prepara- 
tions. 

"  It  truly  does,  Kathryne,"  he  replied,  smiling  at 
me  with  love-lit  eyes,  "  so  long  as  you  do  not  put 
into  practice  the  new  ideas  you  gained  from  the 
Moqua  women." 

"  Such  evictions  only  come  to  unruly  husbands," 
I  answered,  "  so  beware." 

The  two  old  faces  were  smiling  indulgently  at 
us  —  they  were  happy  in  our  happiness.  I  knew 
they  had  long  been  eager  for  my  marriage,  thinking 
I  was  too  much  alone,  and  had  they  been  given  the 
privilege  of  choosing  my  husband,  Donald  would 
have  been  the  man.  We  talked  late  into  the  night, 
giving  our  faithful  "  hewers  of  wood  "  a  detailed 
account  of  our  travels. 

Mike,  as  well  as  Sarah,  had  been  a  part  of  my  life 
always ;  he  came  to  my  parents  a  raw  lad,  direct 
from  the  "  ould  sod  "  and  had  never  cared  to  change 
his  quarters  since.  I  often  wondered  why  Mike 
had  never  paid  court  to  Sarah,  but  she  had  never 
shown  a  feminine  side  to  him.  "  I'm  like  one  of 
the  b'ys,"  he  said  of  her  once,  and  his  eyes  twinkled 
as  he  looked  after  her  broad  back  disappearing  in 
the  kitchen  door :  "  A  pace  of  her  moind,  she's  been 
given'  me,"  he  said  laconically,  and  he  continued  his 
digging  undisturbed. 


108          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

As  DONALD  and  I  ascended  the  stairs  for  the 
night,  Jack  followed  questioningly  behind.  It  had 
been  a  custom  of  long  standing  that  on  my  return 
from  an  absence  of  any  length,  Jack  was  permitted 
that  one  night  to  sleep  in  front  of  my  bed.  He 
never  forgot  this  and  never  expected  it  at  any  other 
time.  It  was  an  understood  thing  that,  on  the  day 
of  my  expected  arrival,  Mike  gave  him  a  perfumed 
bath  in  readiness  for  the  favor.  Whether  it  was 
the  perfume  or  the  wonderful  dog  mind,  I  have 
never  fully  decided ;  but  for  that  one  night  he  never 
questioned.  But  tonight,  it  was  different ;  he  did 
not  understand  Donald's  presence,  and  I  had  for- 
gotten my  dog  friend  in  the  joy  of  my  new  life. 
As  we  ascended  the  stairs  his  foot-falls  attracted 
my  attention,  I  turned  to  meet  his  inquiring  eyes, 
understanding  his  position  at  once.  "  It's  all  right, 
old  fellow ! "  I  exclaimed,  patting  his  head.  He 
hesitated  no  longer,  but  bounded  ahead  of  us  as  we 
opened  the  door  of  our  room  and  ensconced  him- 
self on  the  luxurious  white  bear  rug,  keeping  his 
watchful  eyes  fixed  upon  Donald. 

We  paused  at  the  door  of  my  dream  room  to 
admire  its  beauty.  I  held  Donald  back  as  he  started 
to  cross  the  threshold :  "  Wait  a  moment,"  I 
said ;  "  I  want  a  mental  picture  of  this  room  just 
as  it  looks  tonight,  in  all  its  freshness ;  it  will  never 
seem  so  perfect  again.  Familiar  things,  however 
beautiful,  cease  to  charm  us.  I  want  to  stand  here 
in  the  doorway,  with  your  arms  about  me,  while  I 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          109 

drink  in  its  beauty  and  remember  how  good  you  are 
to  me  —  and,  too,  I  have  something  to  tell  you,  my 
husband." 

Donald  looked  down  on  me  indulgently,  as  I 
rested  my  head  on  his  breast.  I  so  often  felt  that 
he  did  not  understand  my  method  of  getting  at 
things,  which  made  it  hard  to  explain  my  thoughts 
at  times. 

"  A  sweet  secret,  I'm  sure,"  he  said ;  "  you  always 
hide  your  face  when  you  have  something  especially 
nice  to  tell  me.  I'm  all  impatience  to  hear  Kath- 
eryne  —  go  on,  sweetheart." 

"  This  lovely  room  means  so  much  to  me,  Donald ; 
beautiful  surroundings  appeal  to  me  strongly  and 
it  was  so  dear  of  you  to  provide  all  this  luxury,  that 
I  have  not  occupied  the  room  since  you  began  beau- 
tifying it  for  me  —  I  kept  it  until  it  should  be  our 
room,  instead  of  mine." 

"  You  darling ! "  he  exclaimed,  gathering  me 
closer  in  his  arms ;  "  I  knew  when  I  could  not  get 
one  glimpse  into  your  eyes,  that  the  secret  would  be 
sweet  to  me.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  you  hold  me 
with  clamps  of  steel,  dearest?  You  have  possession 
of  the  secret  chamber  of  my  heart  —  you  fill  it  al- 
most to  bursting  and  will  hold  it  forever  and  ever. 
This  room  will  be  doubly  dear  to  me,  Katheryne,  for 
your  sweet  thought.  Come,  love !  "  And  we  passed 
into  the  misty  gray  room  together. 


CHAPTER  XV 

OCTOBER. 

DONALD  and  I  were  up  with  the  sun  this  morn- 
ing, each  eager  to  take  up  the  suspended  duties. 
We  found  the  garden  rather  a  forlorn  place,  with  a 
sort  of  "  frayed  at  the  edges  "  appearance  —  a  bed  of 
geraniums  and  late  asters  were  the  only  flowers  left, 
looking  rather  disconsolate  and  out  of  place  in  their 
frost-pinched  surroundings.  Mike  had  prolonged 
their  lives  by  carefully  tucking  them  into  their  blan- 
kets at  night.  My  rose  arbor  looked  bare  and 
deserted,  not  even  one  last  rose  remained  to  suggest 
the  rich  beauty  of  summer.  The  fish  had  been 
removed  to  the  indoor  aquariums,  and  where  my 
brave  old  oak  had  stood  looked  bare  and  desolate. 
I  could  not  grow  accustomed,  to  the  vacant  place 
which  its  far-reaching  branches  had  filled.  With 
his  love  of  orderliness,  Mike  had  removed  every 
trace  of  the  tree  but  the  high-standing  stump.  We 
planned,  as  we  stood  reviewing  the  landscape,  to 
have  it  covered  with  vines  another  season,  and  to 
plant  a  number  of  quick-growing  silver  poplars  to 
break  the  bare  outlook. 

I  started  for  the  barn  to  visit  the  twin  calves  which 
Mike  had  reported  and  my  meek-eyed  Jersey,  but 
no 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          111 

Donald  advised  going  another  direction ;  he  was  very 
eager  to  visit  the  chicken  yards  —  I  never  before 
knew  he  was  interested  in  hens ;  I  dislike  them  my- 
self, except  when  they  appear  served  crispy  brown 
on  a  China  platter,  or  in  fresh-laid  eggs  in  early 
spring;  but  here  was  Donald,  developing  a  real 
farmer-like  attitude  toward  the  chicken  pens.  Very 
strange,  I  thought.  They  were  Sarah's  special 
charge  — "  had  she  sought  his  admiration  for  her 
pets  ? "  I  wondered.  Soon  after,  we  returned  to 
the  house  to  unpack  our  trunks  and  arrange  our 
new  possessions.  Then  Donald  left  me  for  a  time 
and  when  he  returned  I  could  feel  the  excitement 
in  his  voice  and  his  boyish  attitude  told  me  that  he 
was  guilty  of  some  concealment;  he  asked  me  to 
come  with  him  that  he  had  something  to  show  me; 
finally,  impatient  of  my  continuing  the  work  in 
hand,  he  grabbed  me  up  and  ran  headlong  down  the 
stairs  and  out  the  front  door,  where  he  set  me  down 
silently,  leaving  me  to  discover  the  secret.  There  a 
sight  met  my  eyes  that  almost  took  my  breath  away 
and  explained  Donald's  sudden  interest  in  poultry. 
On  the  drive,  held  by  a  half-grown  lad,  were  two 
beautiful  saddle  horses  —  one,  I  recognized  as 
Diana,  a  horse  Donald  had  ridden  for  some  time. 

"  Your  wedding  gift,"  Donald  said,  pointing  to 
the  other,  and  beaming  at  me,  as  I  stood  with  clasped 
hands,  gazing  at  the  unexpected  sight. 

"  Oh,  you  extravagant  boy !"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Well,  you  would  not  allow  me  to  provide  you 


112         SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

with  a  home.  I  must  spend  my  money  some  way 
for  you,"  he  replied. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  delighted  with  him ;  and  won't 
it  be  great  to  ride  together  whenever  we 
wish?" 

"  Nothing  better,  Katheryne.  Run  and  get  into 
riding  toggery  and  we  will  try  him.  We  will  ride 
over  to  Dear  Special  Friend's  and  announce  our  ar- 
rival home." 

I  sped  up  the  stairs  as  though  pursued  by  demons, 
running  into  Sarah  in  the  hallway,  almost  taking 
her  off  her  feet.  "  What  is  it  ?"  she  cried  in  alarm ; 
"  anything  wrong  ?  " 

"  You  knew  the  surprise  awaiting  me,  you  old 
fraud!"  I  said,  with  a  fond  shake.  "Come  and 
help  me  into  my  habit ;  Donald  is  waiting  for  me  to 
try  that  beautiful  new  horse  " —  and  I  rushed  on  to 
my  room,  where  I  was  quickly  attired  in  riding  habit 
and  off  to  join  Donald. 

We  had  ridden  together  often,  but  I  had  never 
thought  I  could  afford  a  horse  of  my  own  — "  What 
a  glorious  gift!  "  I  thought. 

When  I  came  down,  Donald  was  taking  a  last  look 
at  the  saddles.  "  This  is  Pete,"  he  said,  as  I  joined 
him ;  "  he  is  to  be  Mike's  assistant."  The  boy  hold- 
ing the  horses,  acknowledged  the  introduction  with 
a  bashful  nod.  I  gave  Donald  a  look  of  apprehen- 
sion. I  had  lived  so  carefully  on  my  little  income 
that  all  these  extensions  seemed  like  wildest  extrava- 
gance to  me. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          113 

"  Here,  Katheryne,  don't  look  so  alarmed,"  Donald 
said,  as  he  took  my  hand  to  assist  me  to  mount; 
"you  must  remember,  you  have  a  husband  now. 
And  you  can't  ride  with  your  nerves  running  riot 
like  this;  you  are  trembling  with  excitement;  get 
hold  of  yourself.  This  is  a  spirited  fellow,  and  you 
will  need  your  head  as  well  as  your  hands  to  manage 
him." 

I  stood  caressing  my  horse's  glossy  coat,  while  he 
explored  my  neck  with  his  velvety  muzzle.  Soon 
my  nerves  steadied  —  then  we  were  off,  down  the 
drive  and  through  the  gates  and  away  for  a  five- 
mile  canter. 

"  Oh,  you  beauty,"  I  said,  as  we  turned  our 
horses  homeward  and  came  at  a  slower  gait ;  "  what 
shall  I  call  you?  He  travels  so  swiftly  and  easily, 
Donald,  as  though  he  had  wings  on  his  heels  —  what 
do  you  think  of  Mercury  for  a  name  ?  " 

"  Just  the  thing  to  go  with  my  Diana." 

"  Nothing  you  could  have  given  me,  Donald, 
would  have  afforded  me  half  the  pleasure  as  this 
horse.  You  seem  to  read  my  every  thought." 

"  Love  is  a  great  revealer,  dear,"  was  his  reply. 
"  Billy  was  commissioned  to  make  the  purchase 
while  we  were  away,  and  he's  surely  found  a  fine 
animal.  I  knew  his  knowledge  of  horse-flesh  could 
be  trusted." 

With  tingling  cheeks  from  the  frost-laden  air,  we 
reached  Dear  Special  Friend's  gate  and  were  greeted 
with  exclamations  of  surprise  and  joy :  "  You  come, 


114          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

mounted  on  your  steeds,  like  a  god  and  goddess 
from  the  clouds,"  laughed  Margaret. 

"  So  we  are,  or  at  least,  our  mounts  are  a  god 
and  goddess,"  I  replied.  "  Meet  Mercury,  my  dear 
friend,"  I  said,  patting  my  horse's  shining  mane. 
"  Bow  your  head,  Mercury,  bow  to  the  lady.  And 
this  is  Diana,  you  know.  Oh,  you  need  not  smile 
so  wisely  —  you  were  in  the  conspiracy ;  and 
you,  too,  Billy,  boy,"  I  cried,  as  he  appeared  hurry- 
ing down  the  street ;  "  but  I  am  so  happy  over 
results  that  I  forgive  you  all.  Come  and  help  me 
down,  Billy.  We  are  going  to  stay  to  lunch,  Mar- 
garet." 

Billy  lifted  me  down,  at  the  same  time  giving  me 
a  resounding  kiss  full  on  the  lips  —  I  could  see  Don- 
ald wince  —  and  placed  me  in  the  arms  of  my  pre- 
cious friend. 

"  Of  course,  you  are  going  to  stay  to  lunch,"  she 
said ;  "  Billy  was  coming  anyway." 

I  raised  my  eyebrows :  "  You  seem  to  have  taken 
Billy  under  your  wing  in  my  absence,"  I  murmured, 
and  saw  a  rosy  tinge  creep  into  her  cheeks.  Did 
my  eyes  deceive  me?  What  had  happened  while  I 
was  away  ?  I  stood  looking  from  one  to  the  other. 
Would  wonders  never  cease?  —  Margaret,  blushing 
like  a  school  girl,  and  Billy  ill  at  ease ! 

"  What  else  would  you  expect !  "  Billy  exclaimed, 
not  looking  at  me  and  appearing  interested  in  the 
fit  of  my  saddle.  "  You  threw  me  over  for  Donald. 
Did  you  expect  me  to  go  wandering  about  homeless 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  115 

for  a  whole  month,  with  the  latch-string  of  Miss 
Margaret's  cozy  cottage  so  near  at  hand  ?  " 

I  did  not  answer  and  as  we  entered  the  house, 
I  felt  just  a  little  piqued.  I  had  thought  of  these 
two  friends  as  being  so  wholly  mine  that  I  could 
not  adopt  so  sudden  a  change.  What  had  taken 
place  between  these  two  in  the  month  I  had  been 
gone?  I  had  never  dreamed  of  any  attraction 
between  them,  other  than  friendship,  and  I  don't 
believe  there  had  been,  they  had  always  met,  with 
me  as  a  central  point,  in  my  house  or  garden. 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  I  thought,  "  it's  that  abominable 
philosophy  of  Margaret's ;  I  knew  Billy  was  suc- 
cumbing to  it.  For  a  whole  month,  they  have  been 
thrown  together  and  have  studied  and  talked  that 
one  thing  alone,  with  the  result,  no  doubt,  that  they 
have  discovered  they  have  much  in  common,  and 
both  are  lonely.  Well — and  why  not?  I  questioned 
of  myself  as  I  threw  off  my  selfish  thoughts.  Only, 
the  possibility  of  such  an  attraction  had  never 
occurred  to  me  before ;  I  had  always  considered 
them  mine  exclusively ;  I  could  not  easily  adjust 
myself  to  the  new  condition  —  but,  could  anything 
be  better?  And  I  came  out  of  my  abstraction  and 
beamed  upon  them  like  a  veritable  grandmother  all 
through  lunch,  which,  I  could  see,  both  resented. 
And  when  we  had  left  the  table,  after  learning  all 
the  news  of  the  month,  and  telling  them  of  "  our 
month  "  I  held  Billy  by  both  arms  and  looked  into 
his  eyes  impishly,  without  saying  a  word.  Slowly 


116          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

the  color  came  into  his  cheeks  and  he  looked  really 
confused. 

"  Well,  what  foolish  notion  have  you  taken  into 
your  silly  little  head  now  ?  "  he  asked,  shaking  me.  I 
only  laughed  and  looked  over  at  Dear  Special  Friend, 
which  sent  the  crimson  flood  into  his  face  again. 
And  when  Donald  said  we  must  go,  as  he  had  to  be 
in  the  city  that  afternoon,  I  replied  that  I  would 
remain  with  Aunt  Margaret  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 
I  was  so  obessed  by  what  I  thought  I  had  discovered 
that  I  fear  I  was  very  rude  and  ready  to  play  the 
part  of  a  ferret,  but  for  once,  Dear  Special  Friend 
did  not  echo  my  wish,  and  Donald  settled  the  ques- 
tion by  saying  I  did  not  know  Mercury  well  enough 
to  ride  home  alone.  So  we  left  them  standing  at 
the  gate  together  and  I  could  but  think,  as  I  tossed 
them  a  backward  kiss,  "  What  a  perfectly  lovely 
combination !  "  and  said  as  much  to  Donald. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  are  a  little  premature  in 
your  conclusions,  Katheryne  ?  "  he  inquired,  brusque- 
ly. "  And  don't  you  think  you  are  a  little  child- 
ish in  your  actions  with  Billy?  If  you  were  twelve 
instead  of  being  a  woman,  it  would  be  different.  I 
do  not  approve  of  your  treating  Billy  as  though  he 
were  your  father.  He  isn't  your  father  and  he  is  a 
very  attractive  man,  not  fifteen  years  my  senior," 
he  looked  at  me  with  a  little  frown. 

A  hot  retort  rose  to  my  lips ;  I  wanted  to  remind 
him  of  his  promise,  but  I  mastered  it  and  we  rode 
on  in  silence,  a  little  chill  creeping  over  me.  I  had 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          117 

lived  too  much  alone  to  endure  criticism  amiably, 
and  to  question  my  attitude  toward  Billy  was  pre- 
posterous. 

Donald  tried  to  look  into  my  eyes  when  he  helped 
me  to  dismount,  but  I  would  not  allow  it,  for  I 
knew  they  were  full  of  tears.  I  rushed  into  the 
house  and  away  where  I  knew  he  could  not  find  me 
and  cried  my  hurt  away,  and  when  I  came  down, 
ready  to  be  friends,  Donald  had  gone. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

DECEMBER. 

CHRISTMAS  EVE.     For  a  long  time  I  have 
sat  in  my  bay-window  overlooking  the  street, 
waiting  for  Donald. 

I  have  been  watching  a  flock  of  sparrows  at  their 
bedtime  frolics,  joyously  circling  about  each  other, 
seemingly  engaged  in  some  mystic  game;  now  high, 
now  low,  they  fly ;  suspending  themselves  in  mid  air, 
as  though  held  by  an  invisible  thread;  then,  skim- 
ming just  above  the  surface  as  though  searching 
for  food  among  the  falling  snow  flakes ;  again,  paus- 
ing upon  a  nearby  wire,  chatting  —  I  imagined  — 
over  their  Christmas  plans;  then,  cautiously  ap- 
proaching the  little  bags  of  grain  and  sweets  Mike 
had  fastened  in  the  evergreens,  with  a  Christmas 
greeting  "  to  all  the  birds."  After  satisfying  them- 
selves, with  their  bright,  inquisitive  eyes,  that  it  was 
no  trap,  they  ate  greedily  and  finally  flew  away  to 
an  icy  bedroom  under  the  eaves  where,  tucked  in 
their  warm  feather  robes,  they  are  secure. 

Darkness  came  early  with  the  falling  snow,  gently 
approaching,  as  night  slowly  drew  together  her  pur- 
ple curtains,  enfolding  all  nature,  charitably  casting 
her  mantle  of  shadows  about  the  inharmonies  of 
earth  leaving  but  the  softened  outline. 
118 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  119 

The  snow  is  coming  down  so  softly,  so  noiselessly 
—  Nature  in  one  of  her  gentlest  moods  — "  like  a 
flock  of  merry  children  on  tiptoe,  finger  to  the  lips, 
playing  a  game  of  blind-man's  buff,"  I  thought.  As 
I  watched  the  snow  flakes  fly  hither  and  thither, 
advance  and  recede  in  the  gentle  breeze,  and  then 
quietly,  mischievously,  settle  down  to  earth,  I  could 
imagine  each  little  flake,  with  twinkling  eyes,  watch- 
ing the  scurrying  breeze  searching  for  him. 

DONALD  is  late  tonight  and  my  heart  longs  for 
companionship.  This  loneliness  often  takes  pos- 
session of  me  since  my  marriage,  even  when  Donald 
is  with  me  —  for,  already  I  have  learned  to  keep 
many  of  my  thoughts  to  myself  —  my  fancies,  my 
dreams ;  and  when  I  cannot  talk  of  these,  I  seem 
but  a  hollow  shell,  giving  forth  but  a  faint  tinkle 
of  response.  We  soon  exhaust  the  few  facts  we 
have  in  common,  then  silence  reigns.  It  is  a  great 
sorrow  to  me  that  my  joyousness,  my  buoyancy, 
my  optimism  —  the  very  best  part  of  me  —  does  not 
interest  Donald  —  rather  annoys  him,  I  fear,  he  is 
so  practical,  so  matter-of-fact,  he  must  see  things 
to  believe  them.  And  when,  in  thought,  we  walk 
together,  I  am  away  beyond  him  in  the  path,  see- 
ing only  the  goal,  while  he  must  feel  each  step. 
If  I  try  to  keep  pace  with  him,  try  to  work  out  the 
detail  of  a  subject,  as  he  works  —  on  the  basis  of 
reason  only  —  there  is  friction  and  misunderstand- 
ing. We  cannot  discern  the  road  by  which  the  other 


120          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

travels  to  conclusions  ;  it  is  hidden  from  view,  a  mist 
hangs  between ;  so  I  have  learned  to  keep  quiet  and 
think  out  my  own  thoughts.  And  tonight  they 
dwell  on  a  happy  event  that  takes  place  in  my 
library  tomorrow  —  Billy  and  Margaret,  the  dear 
friends  who  seem  to  be  the  backbone  of  my  life, 
are  to  be  married.  We  talk  of  the  impetuosity  of 
youth!  Could  there  be  anything  more  impetuous 
than  this  hurried  marriage  of  my  middle-aged 
friends  ? 

It  all  happened  the  day  Donald  and  I  lunched 
with  Aunt  Margaret.  They  give  me  credit  for 
bringing  them  together ;  they  say  they  never  thought 
of  marriage  until  I  came  that  day,  so  saturated  with 
romance  that  I  cast  a  glamour  over  everything, 
even  to  the  extent  of  seeing  a  budding  romance  in 
themselves.  They  had  both  been  so  buried  in  the 
past  —  or  rather,  felt  their  youth  was  buried,  and 
had  been  so  interested  in  my  life  and  plans,  that  the 
thought  of  belonging  to  each  other  had  never 
occurred  to  them. 

After  Donald  and  I  had  gone,  they  were  very 
lonely  and  naturally,  spent  much  time  together,  find- 
ing they  had  many  tastes  in  common.  Billy,  for 
sometime,  had  been  studying  Margaret's  philosophy, 
had  become  convinced  that  as  Lord  Bacon  said: 
"  No  pleasure  is  comparable  to  standing  on  the 
vantage  ground  of  truth ;  "  and  Margaret's  expla- 
nation of  truth  had  grown  to  a  feasibility  with 
Billy.  Dear  Special  Friend  became  the  teacher, 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          121 

leading  him,  as  she.  believes,  into  paths  of  right- 
living  —  and  Cupid  took  advantage  of  the  occasion. 
Well,  anyway,  it  was  a  happy  month  for  both, 
and  that  day  we  left  them  standing  at  the  gate  and 
rode  away,  they  turned  to  each  other  with  amuse- 
ment at  my  attitude  and  actions.  As  their  eyes 
met,  they  laughed,  unconsciously  both  extended 
their  hands.  "Why  not?"  Billy  said  —  and  the 
deed  was  done ;  and  now,  just  two  months  from  that 
time,  they  are  to  be  married,  and  I  am  so  happy. 
There  is  such  incompleteness  in  a  life  lived  alone. 
A  man  without  an  Eve  is  like  a  ship  without  a  mari- 
ner; and  there  is  little  pleasure  in  a  house  without 
a  "  gude  mon  "  there. 

DONALD  came  at  last,  laden  with  packages  and 
looking  like  Santa  Claus,  with  the  snow  clinging 
to  his  fur  coat.  I  hastened  to  admit  him,  standing 
on  tiptoe  to  kiss  him  over  his  bundles. 

"Why  all  this  darkness,  Sweetheart?"  he 
inquired. 

"  Stage  effect,"  I  murmured,  mysteriously.  "  I 
wanted  the  beauty  of  the  house,  in  its  holiday  attire, 
to  burst  upon  you  suddenly.  Stand  just  where 
you  are  while  I  turn  on  the  lights,"  I  commanded. 
— "  There  " —  and  I  almost  held  my  breath  to  hear 
what  he  would  say. 

"Wonderful,  Katheryne!"  he  said.  "What  a 
magician  you  are,  when  you  give  your  fancies  reign ! 
How  did  you  manage  it  ?  " 


122          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

"  Co-operation,"  I  replied.  "  Sarah,  Mike  and 
myself  are  the  artists."  All  day  we  had  worked, 
decorating  and  arranging  the  house  for  the  Christ- 
mas festivities,  and  the  result  was  like  fairyland. 

"  All  we  need  to  make  a  perfect  Christmas  pic- 
ture, Katheryne,"  Donald  said,  when,  divested  of 
packages  and  his  great  coat,  he  settled  down  to  his 
paper  for  the  few  minutes  before  dinner,  "  is  a  group 
of  merry  children  running  in  and  out  and  up  and 
down  the  stairs." 

A  thrill  of  joy  swept  over  me  and  I  tingled  to 
my  finger-tips.  I  wanted  to  say,  "  Perhaps,  dear, 
perhaps  — "  but  he  was  completely  absorbed  in  that 
old  paper.  How  I  hated  it!  If  only  when  he  had 
just  a  few  moments  he  would  give  them  wholly  to 
me  and  tell  me  of  the  happenings  of  the  day,  and 
of  how  restful  it  was  to  get  home,  and  how  good 
to  see  me  again !  I  am  always  ready  with  responses 
of  the  same  kind  if  he  gives  me  an  opportunity  to 
express  them,  I  watch  eagerly  for  his  coming  each 
day.  But  it's  always  the  same :  the  evening  papers 
are  of  more  consequence  than  I,  or  anything  else 
in  the  world.  I  think  they  were  made  for  the 
perturbation  of  wives !  I,  too,  feel  eager  to  know 
what  the  world  is  doing,  but  that  takes  second  place 
with  our  own  happenings.  I  want  to  hear  about 
Donald's  day,  and  tell  him  about  mine;  but  that 
paper  is  an  effectual  screen  to  any  confidence.  I 
sometimes  wonder  if  all  husbands  are  just  like  Don- 
ald, so  absorbed  in  outside  things,  taking  for  granted 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          123 

that  all  the  desires  of  a  wife  are  gratified  when 
she  has  a  home,  a  husband,  plenty  to  eat  and  plenty 
to  wear.  Oh,  well,  marriage  is  quite  an  educator! 
I  am  getting  to  feel  quite  grown  up. 

"  There's  the  dinner  gong,  Donald,"  I  said,  tossing 
a  pillow  at  him.  He  arose  slowly,  eager  for  a  last 
look  into  that  detestable  sheet,  never  glancing  at  me, 
only  nodding  his  head  — •  he  hasn't  a  bit  of  fun  in 
him.  We  dined  quite  in  silence,  Donald  so  absorbed 
in  some  thought,  he  was  not  conscious  of  his  sur- 
roundings. He  finally  emerged  from  his  abstraction 
at  the  completion  of  dinner,  to  say :  "  I  forgot  to  tell 
you,  Katheryne,  that  Mrs.  Lathrop  wants  us  to 
remain  with  them  after  the  dance  tonight." 

"  We  could  hardly  do  that  with  our  plans  for 
tomorrow,"  I  answered,  "  and  I  do  not  mind  the  ride 
out —  rather  enjoy  it,  in  fact;  and  it's  high  time  for 
us  to  dress ;  we  are  late  with  dinner." 

Sarah,  always  glad  to  play  the  lady's  maid,  fol- 
lowed me  up  the  stairs.  "  Make  me  look  my  pret- 
tiest tonight,  Sarah,"  I  said.  "  I  haven't  danced 
since  I  was  ill  last  summer  and  I  want  my  husband 
to  think  his  wife  the  loveliest  woman  present." 

Dancing  is  a  great  bore  to  Donald  —  only  once  in 
a  while  he  consents  to  take  me.  "  There,"  Sarah 
exclaimed,  exultingly,  standing  back  to  admire  me ; 
"  surely,  Mr.  Donald  will  be  proud  of  you  to-night !  " 

I  tripped  down  stairs  to  where  I  knew  Donald 
was  waiting  and  stood  before  him  with  happy  an- 
ticipation. He  finally  looked  up  from  his  reading, 


124          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

but  with  unseeing  eyes.  "  Are  you  ready,  dear  ?" 
he  asked.  Not  one  word  of  praise  —  didn't  even 
notice  what  I  was  wearing. 

Just  here,  Aunt  Margaret  and  Billy  came  breezily 
in.  "  My,  but  you're  the  beauty  tonight,  Kathe- 
ryne."  said  Billy's  cheery  voice,  turning  me  about 
like  a  top.  "And  see  how  brave  Margaret  appears  in 
her  new  gown,"  he  took  off  her  loose  coat  that 
I  might  look  upon  his  lady  love.  Voice  and  action 
were  pregnant  with  affection  and  pride.  It  was 
this  expression  of  love  to  which  I  had  been  accus- 
tomed that  I  missed  so  sadly  in  my  married  life. 
Donald  felt  so  sure  of  his  affection  for  me  that  he 
thought  it  unnecessary  to  give  expression  to  it,  only 
on  rare  occasions.  But  I  cannot  take  things  for 
granted  —  I  must  have  the  spoken  word  to  be  happy. 
I  turned  aside  to  repress  my  tears.  Donald  was 
wholly  unconscious  of  anything  wrong;  but  Billy, 
ever  alert  to  my  slightest  change  of  mood,  flew  to 
get  my  coat  and  wrapped  it  about  me  with  all  the  old 
tenderness. 

The  Lathrop  house  was  beautifully  decorated  with 
Christmas  greens.  The  soft  lights,  the  music,  the 
beautiful  gowns  of  the  ladies  against  the  somber 
dress  of  the  men,  made  a  brilliant  picture  and  one 
that  carried  me  out  of  myself,  for  color  effects 
have  a  magical  influence  over  me.  I  love  dancing, 
and  under  such  circumstances  —  the  gay  crowd,  the 
admiring  glances,  the  light  repartee  —  I  danced  and 
4anced  on  untiringly  — 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          125 

After  a  time  I  became  conscious  that  Donald  was 
not  dancing  and  I  thought,  "  how  selfish  of  me  to  be 
so  absorbed  in  that  which  means  nothing  to  him." 
I  announced  my  readiness  to  return  home,  which  'he 
received  with  alacrity.  We  found  Billy  and  Mar- 
garet, who  were  dancing  with  the  joy  of  youth,  said 
our  adieus  and  were  soon  spinning  along  homeward. 
The  snow  had  ceased  falling,  the  moon  was  touch- 
ing everything  with  a  fairy  wand,  gilding  the  roofs 
of  the  houses  and  touching  the  snow-covered 
branches  of  the  trees  with  scintillating  points,  recall- 
ing the  sparkling  jewels  on  the  soft  white  necks  of 
the  women,  lately  seen  in  the  ballroom.  As  we  left 
the  city  and  swung  into  the  country  road,  we  caught 
long  stretches  of  the  river  in  which  the  moonbeams 
were  seemingly  imprisoned,  making  a  silver  trail  of 
light  —  so  tangible  it  seemed  to  the  ever-fickle  eye, 
that  one  felt  that  he  might  follow  its  bright  leading 
into  the  world  below,  even  to  the  haunts  of  Bulwer's 
"  coming  man."  We  left  Margaret  at  the  door  of 
her  cottage  and  took  Billy  home  with  us  for  the 
night. 

The  hour  was  late ;  we  went  at  once  to  our  rooms, 
but  I  felt  that  I  could  keep  my  secret  from  Donald 
no  longer.  Holding  him  by  a  button  as  he  ap- 
proached his  dressing  room,  I  bade  him  pause  for  a 
moment,  knowing  he  was  looking  at  me  with  the  pa- 
ternal look  he  so  often  assumed. 

"  What  is  it,  Katheryne  ? "  he  asked,  smiling. 
"  Your  secrets  are  always  worthy  of  a  listener." 


126          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

"  You  remember  what  you  said  this  evening,"  I 
asked,  "  that '  all  we  lacked  to  make  a  perfect  Christ- 
mas picture  was  a  group  of  merry  children  '?  Well 
—  put  your  ear  down  close  to  my  lips  —  I  must 
whisper  this  wonderful  thing  —  there !  "  and  I  held 
his  face  between  my  hands  and  looked  into  his  eyes. 

He  drew  me  into  his  arms,  so  tenderly,  pressing 
my  head  against  his  breast.  He  was  quiet  so  long 
that  I  looked  up,  to  find  his  face  moving  with  emo- 
tion. "  Are  you  happy  ?  "  he  asked,  at  last. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  happy,  Donald,"  I  replied ; 
"  but  I  feel  the  need  of  so  much  love  and  kindness. 
Be  patient  with  me,  dear,  for  I  am  trying  so  hard 
to  please  you,  to  make  myself  into  an  ideal  wife." 

"  And  you  are  succeeding,  Katheryne,  beyond  my 
greatest  hopes,"  he  said. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  from  your  heart  ?  "  I  asked,  anx- 
iously ;  "  you  are  so  chary  of  your  words  of  praise 
that  sometimes  I  fear  you  are  disappointed  with  me." 

"  Why  should  I  continually  speak,  sweetheart,  of 
what  you  know  my  every  breath  expresses?  My 
mind  is  so  full  of  the  troubles  of  others  that  it  is 
such  a  comfort  to  just  quietly  contemplate  my  own 
happiness.  Always  there  is  that  inspiring  thought 
of  you,  dear,  shining  above  everything;  no  subject 
is  absorbing  enough  to  shut  you  out.  Man  needs  a 
cause  for  which  to  work  and  struggle,  and  then  a 
loved  one  to  wait  and  watch  and  rejoice  with  him 
when  he  has  achieved  success." 

"  I  feel  that  I  know  this,  Donald,  and  I  do  not 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  127 

question  your  love;  yet,  someway,  woman's  nature 
is  such  that  she  needs  to  be  assured  very  often  that 
she  is  pleasing  to  her  husband.  Her  very  mode  of 
life  exacts  this  spoken  appreciation.  She  lives  so 
largely  in  her  emotions ;  she  does  not  have  the  two 
lives,  the  tonic  of  the  outside  friction,  and  then  the 
soothing  calm  of  her  home.  Perhaps,  her  vision  is 
not  so  clear  from  the  restrictions  of  her  narrower 
life,  but  of  one  thing  she  is  always  sure  —  she  wants 
to  be  loved. 

"  Love  is  not  made  of  words  and  kisses,  Kath- 
eryne ;  they  are  love's  language  and  sweet  to  the  ear, 
I  admit,  but  love  shines  resplendent  only  through 
deeds." 


CHAPTER    XVII 

DECEMBER. 

CHRISTMAS  morning  broke  bright  and  clear 
and  cold.  We  came  down  late  to  breakfast, 
where  we  found  Sarah  bubbling  over  with  Christ- 
mas joy,  her  face  beaming  with  happiness.  I 
thought  I  caught  glimpses  of  the  Christ-child  be- 
hind those  kindly  eyes  —  at  least,  the  Christ  spirit 
was  there.  The  dear  old  soul  had  put  into  practice, 
if  not  words,  the  prayer,  "  Give  unto  me  the  holy 
joy  of  human  sympathy.  Save  me  from  the  death 
of  selfishness." 

We  planned  to  provide  dinners  for  all  the  needy 
within  our  knowledge  and  Sarah  and  Mike  were 
delegated  to  prepare  the  food  and  fill  the  baskets. 
It  was  a  labor  of  love  to  both ;  Sarah  drew  upon  her 
poultry  yard  in  a  way  she  would  not  have  found 
heart  to  do  at  any  other  season,  and  spent  days  bak- 
ing toothsome  dainties.  "  Not  only  '  sweets  to  the 
sweet '  was  Christ's  way,"  she  murmured  as  she 
worked,  showing  that  she  not  only  had  a  knowledge 
of  Christ's  teaching,  but  of  Shakespeare  as  well. 

Mike  brought  of  his  vegetables  and  fruits. 
"  With  these  pertaties  and  fragrant  roots  for  a  rale 
Irish  stew,"  he  said,  "  it's  a  bit  of  sunshine  I'll  be 
128 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  129 

putting  in  their  hearts."  All  the  day  before  Christ- 
mas, Pete  had  been  kept  busy  delivering  the  baskets) 

Our  own  Christmas  giving  was  small,  feeling  that 
the  joy  of  Christmas  is  in  being  remembered,  rather 
than  in  the  gift  —  precious  only  as  it  represents  the 
loving  thought  of  the  giver,  and  today  our  hearts 
were  centered  about  our  dear  friends  who  were  to 
join  hands  and  pass  the  afternoon  of  life  together. 

Billy  walked  to  Margaret's  cottage  and  brought 
her  back  in  the  same  way.  They  seem  to  have 
dropped  years  from  their  calendar  and  to  have 
renewed  their  youth.  There  were  no  guests,  just  we 
four,  and  the  dear  old  sunny-faced  minister  who  has 
officiated  at  all  the  important  events  of  my  life.  A 
Christmas  dinner  with  no  wedding  favors  and  no 
wedding  journey,  only  a  walk  to  their  home  near 
our  own  —  the  sweetest  picture  of  "  twain  become 
as  one  "  I  have  ever  known.  Matter-of-fact,  easy, 
unconscious  of  any  change,  each  so  sure  of  the 
other!  Each,  in  a  way,  had  lived  a  life;  the  fires 
of  youth  had  burned  low ;  each  was  hungry  for  a 
real  home,  for  mental  companionship  —  and  they 
had  found  all  in  each  other. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

MAY. 

WHAT  is  so  rare,  so  joyous,  so  soul-inspiring 
as  a  day  in  spring  —  a  perfect  day  in  May ! 
"  The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth ;  the  time  of  the 
singing  of  the  birds  is  come." 

I  took  my  sewing  into  the  garden  this  golden 
afternoon ;  but,  with  the  gentle,  velvety  breeze  kiss- 
ing my  cheek  and  softly  tossing  my  stray  locks,  the 
bees  drowsily  humming  about  me  —  surely,  it  was 
a  cradle  song  they  crooned  —  my  tiny  garments 
made  little  progress.  Each  tender  green  leaf  and 
blade  of  grass  swayed  in  rhythm  to  the  wind's 
soothing  measure.  The  spring-  bulbs  were  at  their 
best,  making  a  gorgeous  display  in  their  bright 
gowns  of  white,  yellow,  rose  and  purple.  The  beau- 
tiful moths,  clad  in  robes  a  mandarin  might  envy, 
flitted  from  flower  to  flower  for  the  tiny  bit  of  honey 
needed  for  their  few  hours  of  life. 

I  watched  a  pair  of  last  year's  robins  explore  the 
thin,  lank  limbs  of  the  clump  of  silver  poplars 
planted  in  the  old  oak's  place.  The  trees  are  bravely 
pushing  forward  the  new  growth,  but  the  robins, 
flaunting  them  as  a  substitute  for  the  noble  oak,  in 
130 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  131 

which  they  had  nested  year  after  year,  began  a 
systematic  search  of  the  garden  for  a  new  home. 
They  paused  in  the  lilac  bushes  near  by,  chattering 
energetically;  suddenly,  Mr.  Robin,  his  brilliant 
breast  swelling,  and  as  though  overcome  with  the 
wonders  of  the  spring,  broke  into  song.  But  his 
more  practical  mate  called  him  down,  emphatically ; 
and  I  could  easily  imagine  her  saying :  "  This  is  no 
time  to  be  singing,  with  the  spring  passing  so  rapidly 
and  no  plans,  as  yet,  for  our  young  ones !  "  Soon 
there  was  a  flutter  of  wings,  and  they  flew  straight 
to  the  little  brown  house  perched  on  top  of  the  rose 
arbor,  the  recognized  property  of  the  blue  birds. 
A  querulous  chatter  ensued  for  the  moment,  an  in- 
stant's vicious  pecking,  then,  the  robins'  sense  of 
justice  returning,  they  gave  up  all  claim  to  the  little 
house  and  flew  to  a  large  tree  in  the  wood  lot,  just 
over  the  garden  wall;  and  from  the  merry  chatter 
and  bursts  of  song,  I  knew  they  had  at  last  found 
just  the  right  conditions  for  their  nest. 

In  yonder  clump  of  tall,  white  oaks,.  I  caught 
a  flash  of  red,  ever  and  anon,  and  I  know  my  elusive 
scarlet  tanagers  are  settled  for  the  summer,  the  self- 
appointed  guardians  of  the  oaks  feeding  constantly 
on  the  destructive  insects  that  infest  these  trees. 
With  his  power  of  ventriloquism,  he  constantly  sends 
his  sweet,  plaintive  melody  to  the  other  side  of  the 
garden ;  now  here,  now  there,  now  far,  now  near  his 
song  rings  out,  while  the  listener  cranes  his  neck  in 
vain,  in  search  of  the  musician.  No  bird  so  annoys 


132          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

Topsy  as  this  gifted  warbler.  This  is  a  hard  season 
for  her ;  she  is  nervous  and  ill  at  ease,  knowing  she 
dare  not  pursue  them.  As  summer  advances,  she 
becomes  accustomed  to  the  tempting  dainties  and 
learns  to  sleep  amid  their  incessant  chatter. 

The  modest  little  wrens  are  building  their  nest  in 
a  far  corner  of  the  arbor,  singing  as  they  work  and 
flying  from  place  to  place,  in  search  of  material  for 
their  home.  The  thrushes,  blackbirds,  Kentucky 
cardinals,  all  are  here  —  a  little  settlement  of  birds, 
working  in  harmony,  each  finding  his  own  place.  As 
I  listened,  each  sang  his  own  particular  song  —  then 
a  silence,  a  twittering,  a  solo  —  then  a  whole  chorus 
of  voices !  —  but  with  never  a  discordant  note !  A 
world  of  song  and  action  and  reproduction  —  the  air 
laden  with  the  joy  of  anticipation ! 

With  a  thrill  of  happiness,  I  felt  that  I,  too,  was 
a  creator!  The  glory  of  approaching  motherhood 
makes  me  a  part  of  the  fruitful  spring !  I  am  filled 
with  wonder  at  the  mysteries  of  life!  Just  such 
songs  of  sweetness  and  hope  are  in  my  heart  and  on 
my  lips  as  these  feathered  blessings  are  giving  to 
enrich  the  world ! 

Since  the  first  realization  of  a  human  being 
developing  within  my  own  life,  existence  has  been 
one  sweet  song.  I  have  seemed  to  have  the  strength 
of  ten ;  nothing  is  impossible  of  accomplishment.  I 
soar  on  the  wings  of  hope,  a  builder,  a  creator  of 
an  immortal  soul !  Donald  has  been  so  dear  to  me, 
giving  me  just  the  tenderness  I  crave ;  he  has  seemed 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          133 

to  realize,  almost  with  a  woman's  fineness  of  thought, 
the  holiness  of  the  pre-natal  period, —  a  time  when 
woman  longs  for  love  and  care,  yet  lives  largely 
within  herself,  engrossed  with  dreams  of  the  future 
and  of  the  life  entrusted  to  her.  No  jarring  ele- 
ment has  entered  into  this  Eden  of  thought.  Donald 
has  protected  me,  even  from  himself,  and  my  heart 
is  filled  with  love  and  gratitude  to  the  father  of  my 
child. 

Presently,  Dear  Special  Friend  comes  lightly  down 
the  garden  path;  she  is  never  long  away  from  me 
these  days.  She  comes  with  the  glow  of  health  and 
happiness  beaming  from  her  eyes ;  I  greet  her  as  the 
personification  of  youth,  she  is  so  rosy  and  beauti- 
ful today. 

"  Youth  is  not  a  question  of  years,  dear,  but  of 
spirit,"  she  replied.  "  Youth  is  immortal,  if  we  but 
shape  our  thoughts  into  freshness  and  fairness, 
rather  than  into  age  and  decay.  Life  should  grow 
richer  and  fuller  with  the  passing  years.  If  the  in- 
ward life  is  sweet  and  true  and  beautiful,  it  most 
surely  stamps  the  exterior  of  the  form  in  which  it 
dwells.  We  are  all  artists,  Katheryne,  and  the  form 
we  call  '  man'  will  carry  the  stamp  of  our  model, 
whether  it  be  beautiful  or  revolting." 

"  Margaret,  there  is  something  about  you,"  I  said, 
as  I  held  her  hands  in  mine,  "  that  makes  me  long 
to  soar  into  unknown  regions,  to  peer  into  hidden 
recesses  of  thought.  You  seem  to  hold  the  key  to 
all  the  good  things  of  life." 


134          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

"  God  is  the  key,  dear  child,"  she  replied,  gently 
and  lovingly.  "  He  makes  me  a  channel  for  the  real 
things  of  life  only  as  I  rid  myself  of  erroneous 
thought.  Hear  your  feathered  chorus  singing  their 
paeans  of  praise  to  Him!  See  your  tulips  and 
crocuses,  how  gloriously  they  answer  to  His  call  to 
reach  out  toward  the  light!  Only  man  hesitates, 
hangs  back,  is  reluctant  to  acknowledge  all  the  gifts 
God's  love  has  provided  for  him.  He  has  given 
man  dominion  over  all  evil,  but  man  is  slow  to  ac- 
knowledge his  need  of  God,  to  reach  upward  toward 
the  light,  and,  until  he  does,  he  cannot  know  free- 
dom. We  make  our  own  bondage,  forge  our  own 
chains." 

"  I  wish  I  might  see  life  as  you  do,  Margaret.  It 
is  beautiful  as  you  understand  it  and  live  it,  but  to 
me  it  seems  impossible  —  and  there  are  times  of 
late  when  a  new  condition  seems  to  be  arising, 
making  life  more  complex  than  ever.  I  can  feel  a 
shadow  of  it  on  my  own  life  at  times,  even  through 
the  anticipation  of  the  great  joy  coming  to  me  — 
something  I  cannot  define  —  something  I  have  ob- 
served in  the  relation  of  men  and  women.  Enmity 
seems  too  harsh  a  word  to  use,  yet  it  is  something 
bordering  close  to  that." 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,  Katheryne,"  Margaret 
replied,  a  shadow  crossing  her  face.  "  It  is  not  a 
new  condition ;  it  is  what  the  public  is  beginning  to 
recognize  as  sex  antagonism.  I  do  not  like  the 
term ;  it  gives  the  impression  of  a  new  development, 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    135 

of  an  evil  that  has  developed  with  woman's  assertion 
of  self,  which  is  error.  It  is  as  old  as  time :  it  began 
in  the  Garden  of  Eden,  when  Adam  and  Eve  refused 
to  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder,  facing  truth,  admitting 
mutual  error  and  their  willingness  to  expiate  their 
wrongs  together.  For  centuries,  woman  has  held 
the  position  she  acquiesced  to  at  that  time  —  bearing 
blame  —  the  weaker  of  the  two  —  the  one  who  took 
the  initiative  in  wrong  doing.  Had  Adam  and  Eve 
been  working  in  unison  and  for  the  advancement  of 
coming  peoples,  Adam  would  not  have  said  that  the 
woman  was  to  blame,  and  Eve  would  not  have  hum- 
bly submitted  to  the  charge." 

"  These  are  such  difficult  questions  to  discuss 
intelligently,  Margaret ;  it  is  so  hard  to  look  beyond 
existing  conditions,  or  to  find  the  cause  of  a  condi- 
tion. To  me,  it  is  only  justice  to  give  woman  the 
ballot,  if  she  desires  it;  yet,  I  have  wondered  if  it  is 
not  the  cause  of  a  new  outburst  of  strife." 

"  On  the  surface  it  may  be,"  Margaret  answered ; 
"  but  it  is  not  the  real  cause,  the  demand  for  so- 
called  rights  —  the  ballot,  is  the  natural  outcome  of 
woman's  intellectual  development.  The  mist  arose, 
you  know,  dear,  seeming  to  shut  out  the  true  crea- 
tion, the  truth  of  being  —  leaving  only  the  material, 
the  mortal  man,  visible ;  only  then,  when  by  the  first 
surgical  operation  on  record,  woman  was  created, 
does  she  become  subservient  to  man,  and  the  ballot 
seems  to  her  the  only  tangible  horn  of  the  dilemma 
—  the  only  way  to  return  to  her  God-given  place  — 


136          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

and  she  grasps  it  blindly,  seeing  in  it  the  only  hope 
of  asserting  her  right  of  equality,  losing  sight, 
oftentimes,  I  admit,  of  the  essential  things  in  which 
she  must  develop  before  true  freedom  comes.  In  all 
things  between  man  and  woman  there  should  be 
equality.  Their  duties  differ,  but  in  the  eyes  of  the 
law,  custom  and  society,  their  status  should  be  the 
same.  We  will  never  attain  best  results  in  govern- 
ment until  men  and  women  work  on  this  basis,  and  in 
unison." 

"  Woman  is  slow  to  use  the  prerogatives  she  al- 
ready possesses,  Margaret,  or  so  it  seems  to  me ;  she 
has  not  yet  awakened  to  her  duties,  her  responsibili- 
ties. It  is  her  privilege,  her  right,  to  purify  the 
earth,  to  make  the  moral  atmosphere  of  the  com- 
munity what  she  will,  to  instruct  her  sons  and  daugh- 
ters in  right  living  —  yet,  as  a  class,  she  does  not  do 
it.  The  temperance  question,  the  white  slave  prob- 
lem, could  be  met  in  one  generation,  if  woman 
would  refuse  to  so  much  as  touch  with  the  tips  of 
her  dainty  fingers,  the  man  who  tipples,  or  has 
unclean  habits.  Man  desires  the  interest  and  sym- 
pathy of  good  women,  and  will  have  it  at  any  cost, 
even  the  sacrifice  of  his  sins." 

"  The  best  things  in  life,"  Margaret  said  gently,  a 
faraway  look  in  her  thoughtful  eyes,  "do  not  come 
to  us  through  strife,  but  from  real  worth.  The  men 
of  our  broad  land  are  just  as  eager  for  the  real  com- 
panionship and  help  of  women  as  we  are  for  so- 
called  equal  rights.  But  the  question  arises,  are  we 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    137 

ready  to  be  helpers  and  co-workers  in  the  political 
field?  As  you  say,  Katheryne,  there  are  so  many 
lines  along  which  we  may  work  for  the  betterment 
of  humanity,  and  as  a  class,  we  do  not.  However, 
it  is  well  that  this  awakening  has  come  to  woman ;  it 
is  not  a  new  desire  —  it  has  been  coming  through  all 
the  ages,  the  desire  to  be  a  force  for  good  in  the 
higher,  broader,  more  interesting  things  a  woman 
can  be  to  man.  The  chains  that  have  manacled 
woman's  faculties  are  being  loosened,  she  is  com- 
ing into  her  own  and  can  only  be  the  power  for 
good  God  intended  her  to  be  by  remaining  a  woman 
in  the  highest  sense,  by  giving  all  her  grace,  her  love- 
liness, her  feminine  dignity  into  the  work.  Our 
most  thoughtful,  conservative  men  see  their  own 
regeneration  in  the  freedom  of  woman,  but  she  must 
prove  her  right  to  freedom  by  her  conduct.  Years 
of  repression  and  limitation  have  bound  upon  her 
habits  of  dependence  and  slothfulness  in  thought 
that  will  have  to  be  torn  away  before  she  finds  her 
true  worth  and  power." 

JACK,  ever  on  the  alert  for  his  master,  as  evening 
approaches,  here  announced  his  coming  with  many 
a  wag  and  smile,  and  as  we  stood  in  the  doorway  of 
the  arbor  watching  our  men  come  down  the  garden 
path,  I  could  but  reflect  — my  mind  still  in  the  chan- 
nels of  thought  made  by  our  late  conversation,  on 
the  aloofness  with  which  man  meets  woman  on  the 
mental  plane;  unconsciously,  they  consider  her  an 


138          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

intruder,  not  worthy  to  enter  the  inner  circles  of 
constructive  thinking  —  he  always  shifts  into  lighter 
vein  at  her  approach.  It  is  woman's  privilege,  if 
she  so  desires,  to  prove  her  value,  to  express  herself 
in  the  world's  work  by  developing  her  latent  abilities. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

AUGUST. 

I  AM  sitting  on  my  vine-covered  veranda  this  hot 
afternoon,  writing  in  my  little  book  for  the  first 
time  in  many  weeks.  This  is  the  ending  of  a  happy 
summer,  but  with  little  to  relate.  Each  day  has 
passed  by  the  same  as  the  one  before.  My  birds 
have  not  varied  in  their  habits  from  all  other 
summers  —  they  made  their  nests,  laid  their  eggs, 
hatched  their  young,  tended  them  carefully  while 
helpless,  then  taught  them  all  the  knowledge  their 
ancestors  had  known  since  the  beginning  of  time, 
when  Adam  gave  them  names  in  the  garden  of  Eden. 
When  these  feathered  wizards  have  imparted  all 
their  knowledge  to  their  young,  "  precept  upon  pre- 
cept, line  upon  line,"  over  and  over  again,  then  they 
no  longer  shelter  and  support  them,  but  gently  push 
them  from  the  nest,  to  learn  the  lessons  only  ex- 
perience and  contact  with  the  world  can  give. 

The  flowers  have  followed  in  their  usual  succes- 
sion, one  coming  to  fill  the  void  made  by  another 
which  has  completed  its  work  and  vanished.  The 
same  stars  twinkled  above  my  garden  that  "  God  set 
in  the  firmament  of  the  heavens  to  give  light  upon 
the  earth  in  the  beginning  of  time. 


140          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

Nature  has  repeated  herself  as  in  each  of  my 
remembered  years,  has  followed  an  undeviating 
plan  —  only  to  me  a  change  has  come.  All  through 
the  long  summer  days,  I  peopled  my  garden  with 
dream  children,  but  not  the  "  children  of  an  idle 
brain."  Mine  were  coming  to  meet  me  with  out- 
stretched arms  and  soft,  smiling  eyes,  and  the  time 
seemed  long  in  coming.  All  the  laws  of  health  laid 
down  for  the  expectant  mother,  I  have  carefully  ob- 
served, that  I  might  not  hinder  the  perfect  develop- 
ment of  the  brain  and  body  entrusted  to  my  care. 

When  I  confided  this  tender  secret  to  Margaret, 
she  only  smiled  and  said,  in  her  winning  way : 
"  Your  rules  of  diet  and  hygiene  would  count  for 
little,  child,  unless  backed  by  a  healthy  mind.  You 
have  had  beauty  and  quietness  of  spirit,  as  well  as 
surroundings;  your  mental  food  has  more  than 
equalled  your  physical;  you  have  created  a  beauti- 
ful world  of  your  own,  Katheryne,  in  which  you  have 
lived  with  your  child,  yours  as  much  in  the  em- 
bryonic state  as  when  it  rests  in  your  arms.  You 
have  looked  upon  motherhood  as  a  natural  func- 
tion, '  as  a  sweetest  joy,'  as  the  crowning  glory  of 
your  womanhood,  and  the  months  of  bright  hopes, 
patience  and  love  will  bring  a  sweet  reward,  the 
greatest  adornment  a  home  can  possess  —  a  little 
child." 

Her  words  were  largely  true  —  the  months  had 
been  a  time  of  incentive  and  inspiration.  Beauties 
before  unseen  and  wisdom  unheard  had  unfolded 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          141 

before  me  as  a  scroll.  I  was  akin  to  nature,  follow- 
ing one  of  her  natural  laws,  and  therefore  entrusted 
with  her  secrets.  And  the  reward  —  my  perfect 
little  daughter  came  to  me  a  month  ago.  So  short 
a  time  this  new  life  has  been  ours,  yet  it  seems  a 
life  time !  I  cannot  contemplate  the  time  when  she 
was  not  here,  so  completely  has  she  established  her- 
self as  one  of  us,  so  absorbed  have  we  become  in  her 
future.  Truly,  "  a  babe  in  the  house  is  a  well-spring 
of  pleasure." 

As  I  glanced  through  the  open  vista  of  doors  and 
windows,  flung  wide  today  that  we  may  catch  any 
cooling  zephyr  that  blows,  I  saw  Sarah  approaching 
me,  baby  in  her  arms.  A  maid  has  been  provided 
for  the  heavy  work  and  Sarah  established  as  dicta- 
tor of  the  nursery,  and  it  is  a  constant  wonder  to  me 
where  that  virgin  heart  garnered  its  store  of  mater- 
nal secrets. 

She  was  followed  by  Mike,  with  a  shame-faced, 
apologetic  air,  yet  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye : 
"  Oy  jist  called  on  Miss  Gore  for  a  minnit,  Miss 
Katheryne,"  he  said  bashfully,  twirling  his  hat. 

My  motherhood  has  placed  me  on  a  pedestal,  even 
in  the  eyes  of  my  old  gardener,  so  that  he  hardly 
dare  approach  the  child  he  has  served  so  many  years. 
As  Sarah  dropped  the  precious  bundle  in  my  wait- 
ing arms,  Mike  continued :  "  Shure,  and  it  makes 
me  think  of  ye'r  sainted  mother,  to  see  that  baby 
in  ye'r  arms.  May  the  blissed  saints  keep  the  little 
gossoon  1 "  His  old  hand  rested  tenderly  on  the 


142          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

little  head  an  instant,  then  he  shambled  down  the 
steps  and  back  to  his  loved  garden,  in  whose  service 
his  shoulders  had  grown  stooped  —  only  a  gardener, 
but  with  a  heart  full  of  sunshine,  finding  content- 
ment in  duty  faithfully  performed. 

Sarah  lingered  near  my  chair  as  though  loth  to 
yield  her  charge  to  me,  for  even  so  short  a  time  as 
she  permitted  me  to  keep  her.  It  was  plain  she 
feared  my  ignorance  of  babies.  The  downy  head 
resting  in  the  hollow  of  my  arm,  the  tiny  tendrils  of 
fingers,  twined  about  my  own,  as  though  seeking  a 
mooring  in  this  strange,  new  country  —  the  soft, 
dewy  mouth  against  my  breast,  thrills  me  as  no 
other  love  has  done,  and  I  know  that  for  all  time 
she  will  be  the  lode-star  of  my  life ;  and  I  long  for 
power  to  resist  the  witchery  of  maternal  absorp- 
tion, that  I,  like  the  birds,  may  give  a  wise  love  to 
this  dear  child. 

As  I  SAT  thus,  lost  in  love  and  contemplation  of 
my  baby  girl,  Donald's  quick  step  sounded  on  the 
walk  and  he  was  up  the  steps  and  beside  us  almost 
as  soon  as  I  was  aware  of  his  coming;  he  stood 
leaning  against  a  post  near  by,  gazing  down  at  us 
with  love-filled,  possessive  eyes. 

"  How  happy  I  am,  Donald,  that  you  came  home 
before  Baby  went  to  bed  —  Sarah  was  just  going  to 
take  her,"  I  said,  as  he  stooped  to  kiss  me  and  to 
peer  at  the  tiny,  sleeping  babe,  held  close  against  my 
breast.  Her  rose-bud  mouth  was  still  in  motion,  in 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  143 

memory  of  her  late  repast,  which  Donald  found  very 
amusing.  She  was  a  constant  revelation  to  him. 
He  loosened  the  dainty,  pink  fingers  clasped  so  tight- 
ly about  my  own,  when  they  immediately  clung  to 
his  big  hand,  as  though  asserting  her  ownership. 
He  gave  a  pleased  laugh,  smoothed  and  kissed  the 
clinging  hand,  then  laid  it  gently  on  my  breast. 

"  What  shall  we  call  her,  Donald  ?  She  seems 
so  unattached  without  a  name.  '  Baby '  is  so 
impersonal.  Would  you  be  content  with  Eliza- 
beth?" 

"  It  seems  a  big  name  for  such  a  tiny  mite,  dear. 
I  rather  like  it,  though,  with  its  Hebrew  significance 
— "consecrated  to  God  —  even  though  I  am  a  sort 
of  heathen.  It's  a  name  that  lingers  in  the  mind 
with  a  pleasing  dignity ;  and  best  of  all,  it  was  your 
mother's  name,  as  well  as  mine.  As  you  know,  I 
prefer  Katheryne  —  but  your  word  is  law." 

"  Then  Elizabeth  it  shall  be ;  she  will  soon  grow 
into  it,  and  one  Katheryne  is  quite  enough  in  our 
small  family.  Sit  down,  Donald,"  I  said,  as  he  con- 
tinued to  stand  by  my  chair,  "  and  talk  to  me  awhile. 
I  feel  so  rusty  and  out  of  touch  with  everything." 

"  I  can't  tonight,  dear.  I  must  work.  I  came 
home  early  to  do  some  special  reading  that  I  need." 

"Work!  This  hot  night,"  I  exclaimed;  "and 
after  your  long  day  at  the  office !  You  give  yourself 
no  time  to  rest." 

"  I  can  rest  in  twenty  years  from  now,  when  this 
atom  is  a  young  lady  and  my  reputation  is  estab- 


144          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

lished  beyond  question.  My  work  is  especially 
pressing  tonight,  sweetheart." 

He  remained  a  moment  longer,  fondling  my  hair, 
gazing  down  upon  us  with  that  silent,  contented 
contemplation,  then  passed  into  the  house  to  his 
books,  his  papers,  his  own  life  into  which  I  am  never 
invited  to  enter.  When  greetings  are  over  com- 
panionship ceases.  How  I  did  wish  he  would  stay 
with  me  awhile  and  let  me  talk  to  him  about  the 
baby,  how  she  is  growing,  her  eyes,  her  hair,  her 
mouth,  her  nose,  her  five  pink  fingers,  her  wee  pink 
toes,  and  all  the  wonderful  things  about  one's  very 
own  baby.  That  he  would  tell  me  something  about 
the  outside  world  of  which  he  is  such  an  active  mem- 
ber —  but  he  has  neither  time  nor  interest  apart  from 
business.  We  seem  to  have  a  dulling  effect  upon 
each  other;  our  personalities  strike  no  answering 
chord.  As  I  thus  pondered,  Donald  again  stood  be- 
side my  chair,  holding  in  front  of  my  eyes  a  large, 
beautifully  finished  photograph. 

"  Philip  Wentworth,  and  his  bride,"  he  explained. 
"  The  only  close  friend  I  ever  had.  They  are  just 
leaving  for  Australia,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  own 
happiness  he  takes  time  to  send  us  this  greeting. 
Here  is  his  letter  filled  with  glowing  praise  of  Mrs. 
Wentworth." 

The  handsome,  dark  face  of  a  man,  illumined  by 
merry,  brown  eyes  smiled  back  at  me,  giving  me  a 
strange  sense  of  comfort  and  sunshine.  I  did  not 
heed  the  woman's  face.  Donald  left  the  picture 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    145 

with  me  and  hurried  back  to  his  work.  I  laid  the 
letter  down  unread,  and  after  one  more  look  into  the 
fine  face,  reluctantly  placed  the  picture  beside  it. 
My  loneliness  and  discontent  vanished.  What  more 
could  I  desire  than  this  beautiful,  perfect  child  in 
my  arms. 


INTERLUDE 

"  The  music  in  my  heart  I  bore 
Long  after  it  was  heard  no  more." 


CHAPTER  XX 

SEPTEMBER. 

WHEN  I  let  my  hands  roam  idly  o'er  the  board, 
seeking  a  silent  harmony  —  some  lost  chord 

—  varied   thoughts    come   close   together  —  varied 
harmonies  come  at  call,  but  always  there  is  the 
lurking  discord  in  the  undertone.     I.  hear  a  sweet, 
thrilling,    evasive   melody  —  in   a   minor  key;   its 
liquid,    dulcet    tones    purling    along    like    smooth, 
flowing    water,    swelling    in    perfect    diapason.     I 
listened,   entranced.     Surely,   this   is  the   chord   I 
seek ;  'tis  almost  played,  with  no  dissonance  to  mar 
its  growing  volume  of  sweetness  and  beauty.     But 

—  hark !    What  is  this  ?    A  cacophonous  tone  slips 
in,  a  wailing,  tuneless  note;  the  melody  vanishes 
and  seek  as  I  will,  I  cannot  find  "  my  song  beneath 
the  keys." 

THIS  is  my  first  wedding  anniversary.  Again,  in 
fancy  I  hear  the  thrilling,  compelling  music  from 
the  "  Rose  Maiden  " : 

"  'Tis  thy  wedding  morning  shining  in  the  skies ; 
Bridal  bells  are  ringing,  bridal  songs  arise, 
Opening  the  portals  of  thy  Paradise. 

149  i 


150          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

'Tis  the  last  fair  morning  for  thy  maiden  eyes. 
'Tis  thy  marriage  morning ;  rise,  sweet  maid,  arise." 

Again,  I  stand  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  leaning  on 
Billy's  arm,  palpitating  with  conflicting  emotions, 
waiting  for  the  song  to  end.  Then  comes  the  invit- 
ing, soothing  music  from  Lohengrin,  pealing  forth 
as  a  signal  to  descend  to  Donald,  awaiting  the  com- 
ing of  his  bride. 

More  vivid  still  comes  the  picture  of  Donald  and 
me  standing  in  the  dining  room  window,  looking 
down  into  the  garden ;  his  arms  are  about  me ;  I  hear 
his  glowing  words  of  love  —  the  readiness  with 
which  he  accepts  my  challange  to  be  redeemed  today. 
But  the  dream  vanishes  and  I  am  standing  alone  in 
my  window.  Donald  has  not  repeated  the  love 
words.  He  has  forgotten  and  I  cannot  remind  him. 
Love's  language  must  come  at  will;  it  cannot  be 
commanded.  "  It  is  the  little  rift  within  the  lute 
that,  by  and  by,  will  make  the  music  mute,  and  ever 
widening,  slowly  silence  all." 


MISERERE 

"  Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of  trouble ;  I  will  deliver 
thee,  and  thou  shalt  glorify  me." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

JULY. 

BEING  restless  and  unable  to  sleep  this  morning, 
I  arose  early  and  sat  at  my  east  window,  watch- 
ing the  approach  of  dawn,  As  the  sun  appeared 
above  the  horizon,  such  a  picture  met  my  eyes  as 
was  worthy  a  night's  vigil ;  such  a  scene  as  no  human 
hand  could  find  the  cunning  to  convey  to  canvas.  A 
divine  touch  would  be  required  to  reproduce  the 
vivid  coloring.  An  assemblage  of  smoky  clouds 
were  all  about  the  horizon,  towering  high,  one  above 
the  other  in  pyramidal  form,  giving  a  lowering  ele- 
ment to  the  sky ;  until,  as  the  "  God  of  Day  "  ad- 
vanced into  this  dense  mass,  such  a  burst  of  flame 
lit  up  the  eastern  sky  that  it  clutched  one's  breath 
with  fear  and  awe,  as  though  all  the  combustibles  of 
the  earth  had  been  fired  for  this  grand  conflagra- 
tion! It  might  have  represented  the  burning  of 
Rome,  or  the  eruption  of  Vesuvius,  so  far-reaching 
were  the  flames !  I  sat  spellbound  with  wonder,  re- 
joicing that  sleep  had  deserted  me,  that  I  might  have 
this  view  of  the  sunrise  of  a  lifetime. 

FIVE  YEARS  have  passed  since  that  hot  August 
afternoon  when  I  sat  on  my  rose-sheltered  veranda, 
153 


154          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

dreaming  over  the  future  of  my  first-born.  Eliz- 
abeth has  more  than  fulfilled  the  promise  of  her  in- 
fancy. "  Little  Sunbeam,"  Mike  calls  her.  She  is 
the  joy  of  the  household,  the  light  of  her  father's 
life.  What  this  merry-hearted,  beautiful  little 
daughter  is  to  me,  words  cannot  express.  Oh,  child ! 
Thou  dost  not  wait  to  knock,  but  with  thy  tiny  hand, 
so  lately  withdrawn  from  nature's  genial  clasp, 
openest  the  mysterious  gate  into  the  hearts  of  all 
mankind ! 

ELIZABETH  has  two  homes ;  we  have  cut  a  gate  in 
the  garden  wall  between  Billy's  home  and  ours,  and 
seldom  is  it  closed.  Only  Jack  has  never  been  so 
joyous  since  her  arrival.  Whether  this  is  advancing 
age,  the  added  responsibility  of  a  little  child  —  he 
follows  in  her  footsteps  through  all  her  waking 
hours  —  or  the  common  malady,  jealousy,  which 
drives  all  joy  and  lightness  from  the  heart,  I  do  not 
know.  Seldom  does  he  lie  at  my  feet  now,  and  he 
has  ceased  to  expect  my  attention. 

But  a  great  sorrow  has  entered  our  lives,  over- 
shadowing the  joy  of  the  possession  of  this  beauti- 
ful daughter.  A  second  child,  a  little  son,  has  come 
to  Donald  and  me,  but  not  to  bless.  A  tiny  weak- 
ling, six  months  old  today,  but  with  the  growth 
and  development  of  an  infant  of  a  month.  Never 
is  he  absent  from  my  thoughts,  seldom  beyond  the 
reach  of  my  hand  —  a  whining,  restless,  almost 
unresponsive  babe.  The  mother-heart  is  no  less 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    155 

tender  for  this  ailing,  imperfect  child,  than  for 
the  lovely,  perfect  Elizabeth;  but  while  one  is  a 
great  joy,  the  other  is  a  source  of  heart-rending 
grief. 

The  physician  tells  us  that  with  great  care  he  may 
live,  and,  perhaps,  in  time,  develop  into  normal  child- 
hood. This  uncertainty  is  unbearable,  is  wearing 
me  out ;  and  when,  but  yesterday,  I  sought  Margaret, 
with  impatience  for  the  doctor's  lack  of  knowledge, 
she  chided  me :  "  Why  should  you  expect  him  to 
know  more,  dear?"  she  said.  "He  is  but  mortal, 
like  ourselves.  He  is  no  more  a  seer  than  you  are ; 
his  limitations  are  the  same;  his  work  is  largely 
chance.  Do  not  censure  him;  he  is  trying  to  help 
humanity  in  the  only  way  he  knows;  he  is  giving 
the  public  what  it  demands.  If  I  could  only  lead 
you  to  the  Great  Physician,  Katheryne,  the  One  who 
'  healeth  all  diseases,'  I  know  that  little  Allan  would 
be  well." 

But  I  turned  from  her  impatiently :  "  Don't, 
Margaret !  "  I  cried ;  "  don't  talk  to  me  of  Bible 
promises !  They  are  beautiful  in  theory  and  lan- 
guage, but  I  might  as  well  read  Sanskrit  for  com- 
fort. They  bring  no  surcease  from  sorrow;  they 
only  irritate  me  by  their  unsubstantiality ;  there's 
nothing  in  them  — '  an  ocean  of  dreams  without  a 
sound/  " 

"  That  is  because  you  will  not  attune  your  ear  to 
God's  voice,  Katheryne.  When  one  accepts  the  true 
view  of  health  he  is  relieved  from  fear  and  uncer- 


156          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

tainty  about  the  future ;  he  has  an  abiding  conscious- 
ness of  unchanging  good." 

"  But  why  should  you  know  more  of  God  and  the 
realities  of  life  than  I  do,  or  any  other  student  of 
man  and  his  problems?"  I  asked  petulantly.  "If 
God  is  all  powerful,  as  you  think  He  is,  and  we  are 
all  His  children,  as  you  say,  why  does  He  permit 
suffering?  Why  did  He  send  a  poor  little  weakling, 
like  Allan,  into  the  world  ?  " 

"  God  does  not  send  weakness  into  the  world, 
dear;  it  comes  from  some  other  source.  It  is  use- 
less for  us  to  go  over  this  subject  again  —  we  have 
worn  it  threadbare.  It  is  for  us  to  find  the  cause  of 
the  weakness.  And  as  to  my  knowledge  of  God,  it 
comes  from  a  willingness  to  submit  my  will  to  the 
Divine  will.  Through  this  submission,  I  have  come 
to  know  that  the  so-called  miracles  of  Christ's  time 
were  simply  the  natural  result  of  the  law  of  good, 
which  is  as  applicable  today  as  it  was  two  thousand 
years  ago.  Man  had  well  nigh  forgotten  the  great 
things  possible  to  him  who  turns  to  God  as  an  ever- 
present  help;  a  friend  who  instills  wisdom  in  the 
heart,  who  gives  courage  and  strength  to  do  the 
right,  until  he  conies  to  acknowledge  the  truth,  that 
there  is  no  power  apart  from  God,  good  ;  and  through 
inspiration,  self-denial  and  meekness  this  great  gift 
has  been  returned  to  man." 

"  Words,  words,  words  —  they  mean  nothing  else 
to  me,  Margaret ;  and  my  heart  is  racked  with  pain 
to  see  my  little  son  a  seeming  nothing.  My  suffer- 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          157 

ing  would  count  for  little  and  I  would  not  mind  the 
constant  care  if  I  could  only  know  that  in  time  Allan 
would  be  a  normal  child." 

"  I  know,  dear  heart,  how  heavy  your  burden  is. 
I  wish  I  could  unclasp  it  and  see  it  drop  from  you. 
You  are  sick  with  misery;  fear  is  clutching  your 
heart-strings,  strangling  all  the  joy  out  of  your  life; 
yet,  with  all  my  love  for  you,  I  cannot  help  you  in 
the  only  way  I  know  until  you  reach  out  for  the 
good  awaiting  you.  '  Patiently  He  stands  at  the 
door  and  knocks.  Human  sympathy  but  adds  to 
our  sorrows,  while  God's  love  is  like  a  hot  bath  on  a 
winter's  morning.  It  brings  a  glow  of  comfort  and 
warmth  that  permeates  all  one's  being.  It  would 
soon  destroy  the  misery  and  fear  that  are  mastering 
you,  dear  child." 

"  Oh,  Margaret,  please  say  no  more ;  my  nerves 
are  taut  to  the  breaking  point.  I  am  so  weary  with 
loss  of  sleep  and  worry  that  I'm  hardly  responsible 
for  my  words  or  actions.  Forgive  me  for  anything 
unkind  I  may  have  said.  You  and  Billy  are  my  only 
comfort.  But  I  cannot  think  as  you  do.  I  must 
see  something  tangible  being  done  to  save  Allan." 

Margaret  soothed  and  comforted  me,  as  always,  by 
her  silence,  at  last  leaving  me  refreshed  and  rested, 
with  relaxed  mind  and  muscles.  But  life  seemed  a 
tragedy  to  me  with  this  threatening  phantom.  Mar- 
garet said  we  must  seek  the  cause.  Could  I  be  in 
any  way  to  blame?  I  had  observed  the  laws  of 
health  as  carefully  before  Allan's  birth  as  with 


158          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

Elizabeth ;  but  what  a  contrast !  Unbidden,  words 
spoken  by  Dear  Special  Friend  in  that  first  happy 
summer  came  to  mind :  "  Your  laws  of  hygiene 
and  diet  would  count  for  little  unless  backed  by  a 
healthy  mind." 

A  shiver  passed  through  me  at  the  thought.  In 
the  months  before  Allan's  birth,  I  had  the  feeling 
of  being  behind  prison  walls.  Donald  could  not 
understand  nor  fathom  the  change  that  had  trans- 
formed me  —  nor  could  I.  One  never-to-be-for- 
gotten day,  he  stooped  to  kiss  me,  but  I  turned 
petulantly  away.  I  felt  that  I  could  not  endure  the 
touch  of  his  lips.  An  angry  look  came  into  his  eyes. 
He  pushed  me  aside,  and  with  set  lips  strode  from 
the  room.  He  had  never  been  harsh  with  me  before. 
I  could  not  explain  my  condition  of  mind  to  him, 
and  I  wondered  if  any  man  understood  woman's 
needs  sufficiently  to  be  tender.  I  have  never 
doubted  Donald's  love;  I  cannot;  I  did  not  ques- 
tion, even  then.  He  has  given  me  beautiful  care 
and  consideration,  but  never  understanding.  His 
work  absorbs  him ;  his  worth  is  advancing  him  into 
an  ever-widening  field  of  service;  he  allows  him- 
self no  relaxation.  Ambition  has  come  to  rule  his 
life.  He  is  ascending  the  Mount  of  Vision,  which 
means  to  scorn  pleasures,  to  spend  days  and  nights 
in  labor,  to  sacrifice  much  that  is  considered  valu- 
able in  life.  We  all  desire  love  and  admiration, 
but  we  cannot  realize  two  such  ideals  simultaneously. 
In  my  few  hours  free  from  care  since  Allan's  com- 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  159 

ing,  I  have  longed  for  his  companionship,  but  I  have 
ceased  to  ask  for  it.  He  has  never  yielded  to  my  en- 
treaties, if  they  interfered  with  his  own  plans.  I 
have  no  mental  stimulus  for  him ;  therefore,  he  can 
give  me  none  of  his  precious  time.  He  has  no  con- 
ception of  my  torture  of  mind;  he  does  not  know 
that  quietness  to  the  "  quick  bosom  is  a  hell."  He 
wants  only  part  of  me,  the  sweet,  feminine  part, 
that  loves  to  be  courted  and  conquered  —  not  the 
real  me  that  thinks  and  dreams.  I  am  always 
thrown  back  upon  myself.  I  have  striven  against 
this  rebellion,  but  cannot  cast  it  off.  I  see  my- 
self becoming  a  nonentity,  swallowed  up  in  a 
stronger,  a  dominating  mind.  He  would  crown  me 
with  the  victories  won  from  life,  but  they  are  not 
what  I  desire.  I  want  his  inner  life;  I  want  to  feel 
myself  a  part  of  his  victories.  But  it  cannot  be  — 
the  real  man  and  the  real  woman  are  aliens.  There 
is  a  lack,  a  great  void,  between  us.  And  are  these 
seething  thoughts,  this  irritation,  this  discontent,  as 
of  "  sweet  bells,  jangled  out  of  tune,"  the  cause  of 
Allan's  weakness? 


CHAPTER  XXII 

JUNE. 

AT  last  the  sword  has  fallen  —  the  slender  hair 
has  broken.  Yesterday,  I  found  Allan  un- 
conscious on  the  garden  path,  with  his  dog  whim- 
pering beside  him,  licking  his  face,  using  all  his  dog 
wisdom  to  revive  his  best-loved  playmate,  but  of 
no  avail.  Almost  fainting  with  the  sick  sensa- 
tions surging  through  me,  I  carried  his  little  limp 
form,  that  looked  so  like  death,  into  the  cool  library 
and  laid  him  on  the  couch,  where  the  light  fell  full 
upon  his  face.  So  horrified  was  I,  so  numb  with 
fear,  that  I  made  no  effort  to  revive  him.  It  did 
not  occur  to  me  to  call  for  assistance;  I  only  knelt 
beside  him,  gazing  at  him  with  mute  anguish.  It 
seemed  the  culmination  of  the  terrible  fear  that  had 
hung  over  me  like  a  pall  for  the  past  five  years.  I 
had  known  no  peace,  no  security  since  Allan's  birth 
—  only  shriveling  suspense  and  torment.  He  had 
grown  to  normal  size  and  apparently  normal  men- 
tality, but  was  still  delicate,  more  often  ill  than 
well.  For  some  time,  he  had  had  attacks  of  dizzi- 
ness that  for  several  moments  would  master  him  and 
then  disappear,  leaving  him,  seemingly,  as  well  as 

1 60 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  161 

ever  —  a  subtle  something,  that  kept  me  in  mortal 
terror  —  and,  this  is  the  end. 

As  my  eyes  were  still  riveted  on  his  white,  death- 
like features,  his  little  form  and  face  were  convulsed 
and  contorted  out  of  human  shape,  as  though  demons 
had  taken  possession  of  him  and  were  rending  him 
limb  from  limb;  and  I  knelt  there,  still  motionless, 
held  as  by  a  serpent's  charm,  watching  my  little 
child,  helpless  in  a  monster's  grip. 

Kindly  darkness  came  over  me  at  last  and  I  fell 
beside  him.  How  long  I  lay  there,  I  do  not  know. 
I  wakened  to  find  Allan  sitting  beside  me,  smoothing 
my  hair,  himself  again,  but  looking  so  white  and 
sick,  and  with  a  dazed,  wandering  look  in  his  eyes. 
I  gathered  him  close  to  me,  fiercely  —  surely,  mother 
love  could  protect  him  from  all  evil ! 

"  Don't  cry,  muvver,"  he  said,  wiping  the  tears 
from  my  face  with  his  little  hand.  "  I'm  all  right. 
I  don't  know  what  came  to  me,  but  I'm  well  now, 
muvver,  see ! "  and  he  stood  weakly  before  me, 
bravely  expanding  his  tiny  shoulders  to  prove  his 
words.  I  followed  his  courageous  example  and 
dried  my  tears,  pushed  my  misery  back  into  my 
heart  and  turned  the  key.  We  went  in  search  of 
Elizabeth  and  found  her  curled  up  on  my  gray  stone 
bench,  with  a  book.  The  loved  bench  of  my  girl- 
hood is  seldom  occupied  by  myself  now,  but  has  be- 
come Elizabeth's,  favorite  haunt.  She  has  grown 
into  a  tall,  beautiful  girl  of  ten,  with  her  father's  far- 
seeing  gray  eyes  and  keen  mind.  She  ran  to  meet 


162          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

us,  and  with  a  child's  quick  instinct,  and  tender  love, 
detected  the  turbulence  in  my  face  which  I  could  not 
wholly  banish,  but  a  slight  shake  of  the  head 
quieted  the  question  on  her  lips.  Allan  begged  for 
a  story  and  we  seated  ourselves  to  listen,  while 
Elizabeth  read. 

No  word  of  that  story  which  so  filled  my  children 
with  bubbling  mirth  reached  my  mind.  I  sat  watch- 
ing intently  for  Donald's  appearance.  He  is  so 
strong,  so  resourceful,  I  thought,  surely  he  can  sug- 
gest something  to  lighten  the  gloom.  Even  Eliza- 
beth's beauty  and  promise  brought  no  ray  of  sun- 
shine into  my  heart  —  pain  is  too  opaque  for  even 
joy  to  filter  through.  At  last,  I  heard  Donald's  foot- 
steps and  leaving  the  children,  I  flew  to  meet  him. 
My  quick  approach  filled  him  with  alarm.  In  hur- 
ried, breathless  words,  I  told  him  all.  A  tense  look 
came  into  his  eyes ;  his  teeth  clenched ;  an  ashy 
pallor  overspread  his  face ;  he  uttered  no  word ;  his 
breath  came  in  hard,  quick-drawn  sighs,  and  his 
hands  pressed  upon  my  shoulders.  I  knew  his  fears 
were  the  same  terrible  ones  grasping  and  absorbing 
my  life. 

Next  day,  we  took  Allan  into  the  City  to  consult 
a  physician.  Our  worst  fears  were  confirmed. 
Our  little  son  was  an  epileptic.  The  physician  tried 
to  be  kind,  but  he  gave  us  little  hope.  Quiet,  out- 
door life  would  retard  the  disease,  he  said ;  growth 
might  overcome  the  evil ;  but,  while  his  words  con- 
tained a  ray  of  hope,  his  eyes  were  compassionate. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  163 

Margaret  is  ever  near  to  me  in  these  days  of  in- 
tense mental  suffering,  ever  ready  to  help  in  any  way 
she  may ;  but  long  ago  she  ceased  to  urge  God's  love 
as  a  healing  power.  Too  often  had  I  pushed  aside 
with  impatience  the  proffered  help ;  —  too  often  had 
I  doubted  its  efficiency ;  too  often  questioned  even 
the  existence  of  a  God.  So,  we  settled  down  into 
dull,  feverish,  resentful  silence,  to  await  the  disap- 
pearance of  the  dreadful  monster,  hoping,  with  the 
futile  buoyancy  of  the  human  mind,  that  it  would 
slink  away.  But  our  hopes  were  vain ;  it  was  not 
willing  to  relinquish  its  prey.  It  came  and  came 
again,  until  our  dear  child  was  worn  with  the  strug- 
gle, and  our  hearts  the  throne  of  despair.  This 
dull,  dead  eternity  of  waiting  and  uncertainty  be- 
came a  phantom,  which  pursued,  waking  or  sleep- 
ing —  my  dreams  repeating  the  terrible  scenes  of 
the  day.  Donald  had  grown  taciturn  and  hard,  un- 
approachable at  any  point.  I  knew  the  terrible  grief 
that  was  pursuing  him  and  pitied,  rather  than 
censured. 

AT  LAST,  months  after  that  woeful  day,  when  I 
first  found  Allan  unconscious  on  the  garden  path, 
and  following  an  unusually  strenuous  period  for  the 
child,  Donald  announced  suddenly  at  breakfast,  one 
morning,  that  he  was  going  to  take  Allan  to  New 
York  to  the  great  epileptic  specialist.  How  I  re- 
joiced at  any  change,  any  surcease  from  sorrow  — 
a  pin-hole  of  hope ! 


164          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

They  were  gone  but  five  days,  days  in  which  I 
found  my  heart  reviving  with  some  of  its  old-time 
buoyancy,  even  heard  myself  humming  an  air  from 
my  seemingly  long  distant  youth.  Wonderful  things 
had  this  great  physician  done;  his  fame  was  wide- 
spread. I  had  high  hopes.  But  one  look  into  Don- 
ald's face  on  their  return  sent  me  back  into  the 
dungeon.  "  No  hope  "  was  written  there  in  great 
black  letters  —  our  only  son  a  hopeless  epileptic ! 
Later,  with  an  outward  hardness,  Donald  told  me 
the  great  man's  verdict.  Only  two  words,  of  all  he 
said,  left  any  impression  upon  me,  however,  and 
they  were  indelibly  stamped  upon  the  tablets  of 
brain  and  heart :  "  Incurable !  Congenital !  "  A  ter- 
rible specter  confronted  me  with  those  words,  that 
would  neither  leave  me  nor  be  silenced.  "  Congen- 
ital !  "  How  it  hissed  and  whispered  its  ghastly 
menace !  How  vividly  those  feverish,  restless, 
questioning,  discontented  days  before  Allan's  birth 
came  back  to  me!  Did  not  his  torture  of  body 
resemble  my  torture  of  mind  ?  Oh,  horrible  thought ! 
Were  we  to  blame  for  this  defective  child  ?  Was  I  to 
blame?  Was  I  the  ignorant  cause  of  a  marred 
life?  And  the  specter  grinned,  showing  its  terrible 
fangs  and  flapped  its  arms  exultingly.  "  The  sins 
of  the  fathers  visited  upon  the  children !  "  it  seemed 
to  shout.  Could  this  unbelievable  thing  be  true? 
This  was  one  of  the  edicts  that  had  driven  me  from 
a  belief  in  God  —  that  the  innocent  should  suffer 
for  the  guilty,  was  demoniacal. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  165 

In  the  light  of  this  self-lashing,  the  days  of  my 
courtship  came  back  to  me,  but  brought  no  comfort. 
I  knew  then,  as  well  as  a  girl  can  know,  that  I  did 
not  love  Donald ;  that  he  did  not  "  grapple  me  to 
him  with  hooks  of  steel."  I  had  done  as  Billy 
warned,  "  given  him  half  a  woman."  I  had  deluded 
myself  into  believing  that  he  had  sufficient  love  for 
both;  that  perfect  physique  could  produce  perfect 
offspring,  without  the  great  motive  power  of  love. 
In  my  egoism  and  superiority,  I  had  counted  the 
great  sin  of  marriage,  infidelity;  and  here  was  I 
from  my  pedestal,  I,  Katheryne  Forbes,  to  realize 
that  I  had  committed  a  far  greater  sin.  I  had  mar- 
ried against  the  keen  instincts  of  my  woman's 
nature,  fearing  to  hurt  the  man  who  loved  me  so 
intensely  —  and  for  perfect  children.  And  what  is 
the  result  ?  —  an  epileptic  son,  and  two  lives  wrecked. 

For,  in  this  awful  self-revealing,  I  have  come  to 
acknowledge  a  thing  that  has  followed  me  for 
weeks,  but  from  which  I  have  dodged  and  hidden. 
The  truth  comes  now  with  accelerated  force.  Don- 
ald no  longer  loves  me ;  I  have  driven  him  from  me 
with  coldness,  forgetting  that  love  must  be  culti- 
vated to  live.  All  our  ideals  are  shattered.  I  could 
not  bear  more  children,  with  possibilities  of  others 
like  my  precious  Allan ;  and  so,  we  have  lived  apart. 
The  "  dream  room  "  has  again  become  my  own.  Oh, 
the  pity  of  it !  A  man  and  woman,  perfect  phys- 
ically and  mentally,  pledging  themselves  to  "  love, 
honor  and  obey  "  through  all  the  years  that  they  may 


166          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

live,  when  they  can  no  more  harmonize  and  mingle 
than  oil  and  water ;  as  ignorant  of  each  other's  minds, 
aspirations  and  desires,  as  though  each  spoke  a  dif- 
ferent language;  with  no  understanding  of  each 
other's  needs;  reacting  on  each  other  like  antago- 
nistic chemicals !  We  had  fretted,  irritated  and  mis- 
understood each  other,  because  we  had  not  the  al- 
chemy of  love  as  a  solvent ;  an  alchemy  in  which  all 
misunderstandings  would  have  vanished  and  we  two 
have  been  merged  into  one.  Ten  years  under  one 
roof,  with  children  to  cement  our  union ;  yet,  are  we 
strangers,  each  living  in  his  own  world  of  thought, 
which  the  other  may  not  enter !  We  have  had  our 
joys  and  happy  times  together;  all  has  not  been 
sorrow  —  wrongs  grow  slowly,  subtly;  and  little 
jealousies  I  had  felt  and  wondered  at  and  resented, 
in  the  intense  light  of  pain,  became  plain;  all  the 
miserable  past  was  illumined  —  I  knew  no  jealousy, 
because  I  did  not  love,  and  because  I  knew  I  was 
loved.  "  Oh,  Donald,"  I  cried,  in  my  mental  an- 
guish, "  forgive  the  great  wrong  I  have  done  to  you 
and  your  child !  " 

Looking  through  the  vista  of  the  past,  I  realize 
that  this  division  began  in  that  first  beautiful  month. 
We  were  apart,  divided,  even  then,  held  only  by 
physical  charm ;  and  now,  too  late,  "  He  prays,  come 
over ;  I  may  not  follow.  I  say,  return ;  but  he  can- 
not come.  We  speak,  we  laugh,  but  with  voices 
hollow.  Our  hands  are  hanging,  our  hearts  are 
numb." 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    167 

A  chasm  yawns  between  and  no  crossing,  and  I 
the  guilty  cause.  "  I  sinned  ignorantly,"  I  cry  in 
my  despair  at  the  menacing  specter  ever  hovering 
over  me.  "  Is  ignorance  an  excuse  for  Allan's  worn 
body  and  mind  ?  "  he  asks,  threatening,  as  though 
fearing  my  escape,  and  my  lacerated  heart  answers, 
"No!  No!  No!" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

JUNE. 

MY  castles  are  all  demolished ;  my  dreams  van- 
quished —  all  save  one,  Elizabeth  —  and  she, 
so  slender  a  mooring  to  the  bright  fancies  of  youth, 
that  fear  whispers :  "  She,  too,  may  be  taken  in 
retribution  for  your  sins."  Again,  as  in  that  long 
ago  June  day,  I  wandered  today  in  my  garden  for 
consolation ;  now,  as  then,  I  sought  for  a  peep  into 
the  future.  From  the  plane  of  my  sick,  helpless 
thoughts,  I  could  see  the  long,  weary  years  drag 
slowly  by ;  our  home  become  as  a  prison,  the  suffer- 
ing of  our  child,  a  hell. 

Donald  had  taken  the  children  for  a  long  drive ; 
I  could  not  go  —  my  gloomy  foreboding  would  cast 
a  blight  over  all  their  innocent  pleasure. 

As  I  sat,  surrounded  by  my  beautiful  flowers  and 
happy  birds  in  the  loved  garden,  that  was  so  closely 
interwoven  into  my  life- —  my  joys,  my  sorrows,  my 
problems,  all  had  been  brought  to  the  same  shrine 
to  receive,  at  least,  a  softening  touch  —  and  now, 
with  the  harmony  of  nature  about  me,  even  through 
the  mantle  of  black  despair  that  enveloped  me,  a 

168 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  169 

certain  calmness  stole;  and  as  I  sat  reflecting,  life 
seemed  to  me  an  incomprehensible  enigma  —  we 
were  placed  here  and  left  entirely  in  ignorance  as 
to  the  purpose  of  our  existence.  We  seemed  to  be 
drifting  aimlessly  about,  without  any  knowledge  of 
the  truth  of  being,  or  how  to  acquire  it.  It  seemed 
that  the  guiding  hand  of  the  universe,  Nature,  had 
adjusted  everything  to  its  proper  place,  but  man;  he 
was  cast  adrift,  floating  hither  and  thither,  without 
guidance  or  any  assurance  of  finding  a  safe  anchor- 
age. Some,  by  chance  it  seemed,  found  havens  of 
security,  love  and  happiness ;  others  were  tossed 
upon  the  barren  rocks  to  die  of  starvation;  while 
still  others,  like  myself,  were  ever  in  the  seething, 
surging  sea,  with  no  land  in  sight, —  with  food  and 
water  exhausted.  Surely,  there  had  been  a  great 
mistake  somewhere! 

I  had  always  possessed  a  keen  desire  to  live  right, 
yet,  a  backward  glance  showed  a  net  work  of  blun- 
ders,—  blind  mistakes.  With  overwhelming  force 
came  the  question :  If  I  had  gone  so  far  wrong  in 
things  seen,  might  I  not,  also,  be  wrong  in  my 
thoughts  of  the  unseen  power  of  God  ?  Was  all  my 
reasoning  wrong?  I  had  come  to  doubt  my  own 
capabilities  and  understanding.  Could  I  only  know 
the  right? 

While  in  this  frame  of  mind,  a  strong  sense  of 
my  helplessness,  of  the  wreck  I  had  made  of  life, 
came  over  me,  and  I  was  swept  by  a  storm  of  sobs. 
I  could  feel  a  something  breaking  down  within  me, 


170          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

a  wall  of  pride  and  self-will  and  self-justification ; 
and  I  inwardly  appealed  to  the  great  unseen  power 
to  unlock  the  treasures  of  truth  to  my  understand- 
ing ;  to  reveal  the  path  wherein  I  should  go,  promis- 
ing with  a  contrite  heart  to  follow  wherever  it  might 
lead  me. 

While  still  shaken  with  sobs,  and  as  though  in 
answer  to  my  appeal,  Dear  Special  Friend  stood  be- 
side me.  "  There,  dear  heart,"  she  said  compas- 
sionately, "lean  on  me;  let  me  comfort  you,"  — 
and  she  gathered  me  to  her. 

"  Oh,  Margaret,"  I  sobbed  convulsively ;  "  I  am 
in  despair;  I  am  helpless.  Teach  me;  help  me;  I 
will  no  longer  refuse  to  listen ;  I  will  follow  if  you 
will  only  show  me  the  way." 

She  held  me  close,  while  she  repeated  softly  words 
I  had  often  heard  from  her  lips,  but  today  they 
carried  a  strange  new  meaning.  "  He  shall  cover 
thee  with  His  feathers  and  under  His  wings  shalt 
thou  trust ;  His  truth  shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler. 
There  shall  no  evil  befall  thee,  neither  shall  any 
plague  come  nigh  thy  dwelling.  He  shall  give  His 
angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways. 
He  will  be  with  thee  in  trouble;  He  will  deliver 
thee." 

Never  before  had  words  so  filled  with  promise 
been  given  me;  they  seemed  to  take  possession  of 
me;  they  gave  me  hope;  they  carried  me  back  to 
the  time  when  Margaret  held  my  hand  and  would 
not  let  the  black  shadows  close  about  me,  and  I  was 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    171 

able  to  subdue  my  sobs  and  gain  a  degree  of  quiet- 
ness. 

"  But,  Allan,  Margaret,"  I  pleaded ;  "  I  can  know 
no  peace  unless  he  is  well.  Are  these  promises  for 
him  ?  You  say,  '  No  plague  shall  come  nigh,  nor 
evil  befall.'  This  devil  that  pursues  him  —  can  God 
overcome  anything  so  terrible?  " 

"  Nothing  is  impossible  to  God,  dear.  Sickness 
does  not  come  from  God.  God  created  only  that 
which  is  good.  Sickness  is  unreal  —  evil  —  there- 
fore, it  is  to  be  overcome  and  destroyed." 

"  But  I  have  not  told  you  all,  Margaret  —  all  the 
terrible  truth.  I  could  not  speak  the  appalling  word, 
even  to  your  loving  ears.  The  doctors  say  Allan's 
trouble  is  congenital,  that  he  was  born  with  an  in- 
capacity that  cannot  be  overcome;  that  he  must  al- 
ways remain  a  victim  to  this  appalling  disease." 
And  the  anguish  of  it  broke  over  me  again  with 
its  relentless  lashing. 

"  Be  quiet,  Katheryne ;  listen  to  me,  dear.  Con- 
genital! What  of  that?  That  is  a  human  law,  a 
cruel,  unjust  law.  God  knows  nothing  of  it.  Jesus 
healed  all  diseases  without  questioning,  whether 
acute,  chronic  or  congenital.  This  is  the  same  devil 
that  'cast  into  the  fire,'  and  Jesus  destroyed  it. 
More,  He  said.  '  The  works  that  I  do,  ye  shall  do/ 
and  this  promise  was  meant  for  all  ages  and  all 
peoples,  even  to  our  time,  and  for  Allan.  Take 
hope,  dear  heart,  Allan  will  yet  be  well  and  the  fine, 
strong  boy  God  intended  him  to  be.  Health  is  our 


172          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

birthright ;  and  now  that  you  have  fled  for  refuge  to 
God,  lay  aside  every  weight  —  fear  and  doubt  and 
worry;  put  on  the  whole  armor  of  God,  and  be 
ready  for  battle." 

"  Battle !  "  I  cried,  wonder  filling  me,  and  strange 
new  hope.  Was  there  anything  I  could  do?  Any- 
thing but  this  dull,  dead  waiting !  "  I  thought  this 
was  healing  through  peace  and  love,  Margaret !  " 

"  True,  dear,"  she  replied ;  "  but,  sometimes,  the 
sword  is  needed  to  bring  peace,  and  this  devil,  Jesus 
said,  '  goeth  out  only  through  prayer  and  fasting.' 
You  have  much  to  do,  dear  —  Allan's  healing  will 
come  largely  through  you.  Your  first  battle  will 
come  with  the  command,  '  Fear  not ;  be  glad  and  re- 
joice, for  the  Lord  will  do  great  things.'  You  must 
be  patient  and  know  God's  power.  It  is  such  a 
splendid  thing  to  hold  on  until  every  obstacle  is 
overcome  and  we  have  become  masters  of  self  and 
the  problem  that  may  confront  us." 

"  Oh,  I  see !  "  I  exclaimed,  light  dawning  upon  me. 
"  I  begin  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  words 
I  have  so  often  heard  you  speak, '  work  out  your  own 
salvation.'  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  earnestly ;  "  no  words  so  fill 
me  with  courage  as  these ;  and  never  forget  the  last 
half  of  that  quotation,  which  begins  with  a  command, 
but  ends  with  a  wonderful  promise  — '  for  it  is  God 
who  worketh  with  you.'  You  must  first  strive  to 
rid  your  mind  of  this  word  '  congenital,'  Katheryne, 
that  hangs  like  a  black  pall  about  you." 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  173 

"Do  you  think  I  ever  can,  Margaret?"  I  asked 
doubtingly.  "  It  has  become  a  part  of  me,  whether 
asleep  or  awake ;  it  has  taken  possession  of  me  and 
held  me  in  the  depths  of  hell  so  long  —  can  I,  do 
you  think,  even  with  prayer  and  fasting,  ever  creep 
out?" 

"  With  God's  help,  dear.  God's  power  can 
recreate  you,  so  that  '  old  things  will  pass  away 
and  all  things  be  made  new.'  We  come  to  feel  that 
we  can  do  all  things  that  are  good  and  true  and 
beautiful,  through  God.  He  gives  us  a  strength,  and 
faith  in  our  ability  to  perform  that  could  come  from 
no  other  source  than  a  divine  one.  We  come  to 
think  of  ourselves  as  God's  children,  to  expect  good, 
—  then  fear  can  no  longer  hold  us  in  bondage." 

"  I  do  not  understand  much  of  this,  Margaret, 
only  there  is  something  about  all  you  say  that  fills 
me  with  hope  and  throws  a  gleam  of  light  along  my 
path  into  the  future,  as  though  someone  were  lift- 
ing my  burden,  sharing  it  with  me.  But  this 
avalanche  of  guilt  that  I  have  carried  so  long  does 
not  lighten  —  it  crushes  me.  Even  if  God  can  bring 
health  to  Allan,  I  cannot  conceive  his  forgiveness  for 
my  crime  of  crippling  one  of  His  children." 

"  Your  crime,  Katheryne ;  I  do  not  understand." 

"  It  is  a  truly  awful  confesson  to  make,  Margaret, 
but  I  feel  that  Allan's  condition  is  wholly  due  to  my 
state  of  mind  before  his  birth.  My  restlessness,  my 
discontent,  my  suffering  are  all  depicted  in  Allan's 
little  struggling  body.  It  is  almost  more  than  I  can 


174          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

bear  to  speak  of,  Margaret  —  to  feel  that  I,  to  whom 
this  little  child  was  entrusted, —  failed  him." 

"  You  are  right,  and  wrong,  my  poor  child.  No 
wonder  you  have  grown  wan  and  thin  with  this  load 
of  misery.  Here  is  where  you  must  learn  to 
separate  the  true  from  the  false.  You  may  have 
been  the  cause  of  the  maimed  human  mind  and 
body  —  the  unreal  —  but  the  real  man,  the  divine  in 
your  child,  you  cannot  harm.  And  it  is  this  divine 
child,  made  in  the  '  image  and  likeness  of  God,' 
that  we  must  know  henceforth,  never  allowing  the 
sick,  helpless  child  to  be  a  reality  —  until  God's  per- 
fect child  appears,  strong  in  mind  and  body.  And 
you  must  no  longer  lash  yourself  with  remorse  and 
weaken  your  powers  for  good ;  '  Let  the  dead  past 
bury  its  dead.'  We  are  told  that  '  he  who  sins 
ignorantly,  receives  few  stripes.'  You  have  had 
your  punishment,  uncovered  your  own  error,  which 
is  half  the  battle.  We  are  prone  to  hug  our  sins 
and  strive  only  to  overcome  the  discomfort  which 
results  from  sin.  Rejoice!  that  you  have  looked 
within  with  humbleness  of  heart,  and  desire  to  be 
led  into  all  truth,  even  to  the  overcoming  of  the 
greatest  enemy, —  self.  We  will  work  together,  with 
God,  dear  heart,  for  the  release  from  bondage  of 
this  dear  child." 

As  SHE  talked,  the  sun  seemed  to  shine  forth  for 
the  first  time  in  many  months  and  I  caught  a  faint 
gleam  of  the  truth  of  being.  I  realized  that 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  175 

throughout  the  years,  I  had  been  imbibing  this 
beautiful  view  of  life.  Unnumbered  proofs  of  its 
successful  application  to  problems  —  before  un- 
acknowledged—  came  to  mind;  but  only  when  I 
had  humbled  pride  and  self,  when  I  stood  in  the 
revealing  light  of  truth,  could  I  know  that  "  Whom 
the  Lord  loveth,  He  chasteneth  " —  instructeth  — 
and  could  listen  understandingly  to  Margaret's 
softly  spoken  words,  "  Ye  shall  know  the  truth  and 
the  truth  shall  make  you  free." 


SYMPHONY 

"  Love  looks  not  with  the  eyes,  but  with  the  mind, 
And  therefore  is  wing'd  Cupid  painted  blind." 


., 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

SEPTEMBER. 

SINCE  that  revealing  day,  when  I  went  down 
into  the  "  Valley  of  Decision,"  into  the  Valley  of 
Self -surrender,  life  has  been  a  steady  uplift.  The 
shadows  are  still  lurking  near,  the  phantom  often 
at  my  side ;  —  Allan  is  not  well,  but  much  improved. 
It  is  not  easy  to  come  from  the  sea  of  Error  into  the 
haven  of  Truth;  like  the  child,  I  must  learn  the 
lesson  over  and  over  again.  When  the  old  monster 
returns  and  Allan  cannot  resist  his  clutch,  I  go  into 
the  depths  of  darkness,  only  to  be  lifted  out  and 
comforted  by  the  tender,  loving  counsel  of  Margaret 
and  Billy ;  —  and  thank  God,  he  comes  less  and  less 
often.  Inspiring  hope  leads  the  way! 

Donald  has  put  all  prejudice  aside  and  has  come 
to  have  faith  in  Margaret's  philosophy.  We  have 
forgotten  each  other  and  our  personal  friction  and 
are  working  in  unison  for  the  benefit  of  our  child. 
Even  Sarah,  in  her  great  human  love  for  this 
"  stricken  lamb,"  as  she  calls  him,  has  put  aside  her 
life-long,  distant  God,  and  is  striving,  gropingly, 
blindly,  to  know  the  strange  God  "  who  healeth  all 
diseases."  And  Mike,  child  of  nature  that  he  is, 
after  living  a  lifetime  among  the  flowers,  finds  it 

179 


180          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

easy  to  think  of  God  and  Good  as  synonymous 
terms :  "  Shure,  and  Oy  niver  did  consider  it 
square  to  blame  God  with  our  sufferins ;  and  it's  the 
maneness  in  a  man  that  makes  the  pains  ivery 
toime — if  not  mane  outside,  shure  it's  inside." 

Elizabeth  did  not  question.  Her  far-seeing  child 
mind  and  thoughtful  eyes  seemed  to  grasp  all  at 
once.  Born  with  a  happy,  joyous  spirit  and  kept 
in  close  touch  with  nature,  good  seemed  more 
natural  to  her  than  evil ;  —  God  became  a  near  and 
dear  friend,  ever  ready  to  help.  Our  dear  children 
are  leading  us  into  unexplored  paths  of  beauty  and 
light. 

My  'phone  rang  this  evening  and  Donald's  voice, 
with  some  of  its  old-time  joyousness,  responded  to 
my  "  hello ;  "  "  Such  a  happy  surprise,  Katheryne ! 
You  never  could  guess  whom  I  am  bringing  home 
to-night ! 

"  Not  Jim !  "  I  exclaimed,  delightedly. 

"  Better  than  that,"  he  replied ;  "  guess  again." 

"  Your  uncle  from  Brazil  ?  "  He  had  hoped  for 
sometime  this  uncle  would  come  north. 

"  Better  still,"  he  laughed ;  "  but  I  see  I  will  have 
to  tell  you.  Philip  Wentworth  is  here." 

"  Oh !     Oh !     Oh !     I'm  so  glad,  Donald !  " 

"  We'll  have  dinner  in  town  and  be  late  getting 
home  but  wait  up  for  us,  if  you're  not  too  tired." 

"  My  weariness  has  all  vanished  since  I  know  that 
Allan  will  be  well.  I'm  not  at  all  tired,"  I  replied. 
"  This  has  been  such  a  happy  day.  Allan  has  been 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          181 

so  merry  all  day  long,  romping  with  Mike  and  his 
new  dog,  who  is  proving  himself  a  fine  play-fellow. 
Isn't  it  too  good  to  be  true,  Donald,  that  all  the 
horrible  fear  has  disappeared  ?  " 

I  could  hear  his  happy  laugh  as  he  replied: 
"  God  is,  indeed,  good  to  us,  Katheryne.  And  now, 
goodbye;  we'll  be  home  as  early  as  possible,  and 
I  want  you  to  help  me  give  Philip  the  best  time  of 
his  life,"  and  he  rang  off. 

I  FELT  a  thrill  of  excitement  over  Philip  Went- 
worth's  coming.  I  had  never  forgotten  the  glow  of 
comfort  that  came  to  me,  when  I  first  looked  upon 
his  pictured  face,  and  seemed  to  catch  a  message 
from  his  beaming  eyes.  He  and  Donald  had  kept 
up  a  desultory  correspondence  for  some  years ;  after 
he  had  gone  to  Australia,  but  of  late,  even  that  had 
been  dropped  and  I  could  but  wonder  what  had 
brought  him  to  our  part  of  the  world  so  suddenly. 

The  children,  as  usual,  retired  early,  and  as  I 
passed  from  room  to  room  to  see  that  all  was  in 
perfect  order  for  Donald's  friend,  I  could  not  resist, 
ever  and  anon,  slipping  into  my  own  room  just  to 
peep  at  Allan's  rosy  cheeks.  As  I  realized  the  great 
change  that  was  being  wrought  by  the  power  of 
God,  I  could  scarce  restrain  myself  from  clasping 
him  in  my  arms.  I  knelt  beside  him,  gently  caress- 
ing his  golden  curls  with  my  finger-tips,  and  prayed 
God  to  make  me  deserving  of  the  great  blessing 
He  had  bestowed  upon  me,  to  keep  me  pure  and 


182          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

true,  a  worthy  mother  of  this  restored  child,  and  my 
beautiful  Elizabeth.  And  then  —  I  prayed  so 
earnestly  and  for  the  first  time,  that  I  might  find  a 
crossing  over  the  chasm  that  divided  Donald  and 
me ;  that  love  might  bridge  the  divide,  and  that  we 
might  be  reunited  by  the  healing  of  our  child. 
Allan  moved  in  his  sleep,  opened  his  eyes  and 
raised  his  arms  to  my  neck :  "  I  love  you,  muvver," 
he  said,  and  smiled  as  I  gathered  him  into  my  arms. 
I  cuddled  him  close  long  after  he  had  returned  to 
sleep,  until  I  heard  footsteps  below,  when  I  care- 
fully returned  him  to  his  little  bed  that  I  might  not 
awaken  him,  and  hurried  down  stairs  to  meet 
Donald. 

"  Here  we  are,  dear !  "  Donald's  voice  is  exult- 
ingly  happy  tonight.  "  Katheryne,  this  is  Philip. 
I  know  you  will  be  the  best  of  friends  —  I  have 
long  wanted  you  to  meet." 

As  our  hands  clasped,  our  eyes  met  and  held  for 
an  instant.  Surroundings  vanished ;  we  two  seemed 
to  be  standing  alone,  apart  from  all  the  world. 
Surely,  this  is  no  stranger !  I  seemed  to  have 
known  him  always.  As  our  hands  lingeringly  un- 
clasped, I  seemed  to  waken  to  find  Donald's  eyes 
beaming  upon  us,  filled  with  pleasure  at  our  evident 
admiration  of  each  other.  The  hour  was  late. 
After  a  few  light  words,  Donald  escorted  Philip  to 
his  room.  I  stood,  unconsciously  looking  after 
them,  until,  as  they  reached  the  landing,  Philip 
turned  and  glanced  back.  Again,  our  eyes  met;  a 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          183 

flush  of  warmth  passed  over  me.  I  moved  away, 
turned  to  the  fireplace  and  stood  leaning  on  the 
mantel,  looking  down  into  the  fire,  wondering  what 
had  come  to  me.  "  It  is  his  close  friendship  with 
Donald ;  —  the  many  times  that  Donald  has  de- 
scribed him  that  makes  him  seem  so  near  to  me,  like 
an  old  friend,"  I  thought. 

Donald  came  whistling  down  the  stairs  —  I  had 
not  seen  him  so  happy  since  the  first  weeks  of  our 
marriage.  Drawing  chairs  to  the  fire :  "  Sit  down, 
Katheryne,"  he  said.  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about 
Philip,  even  though  it  is  late.  He's  in  trouble,  and 
it's  a  blamed  shame.  Philip  is  the  finest  fellow  I 
ever  ran  across  —  never  knew  him  to  do  a  mean 
thing.  But  he  married  that  brilliant  little  butterfly 
of  a  girl  and  she's  wrecked  his  life  —  he  wants  me 
to  get  him  a  divorce.  Damn  divorce!  I  feel  as 
though  I  had  murdered  something  every  time  I  as- 
sist a  man  and  woman  to  regain  their  freedom.  I 
am  going  to  steer  Phil  away  from  it,  if  possible,  and 
I  want  you  to  help  me,  Katheryne  —  we'll  keep  him 
here  and  educate  him  in  right  living.  You  will  help 
me,  won't  you,  dear?  A  woman  is  so  much  wiser 
than  a  man  in  these  affairs." 

"  All  that  I  possibly  can,  Donald,"  I  replied ;  at 
the  same  time,  thinking  we  were  a  strange  couple 
to  educate  others  in  modes  of  life,  but  to-night, 
he  seemed  to  have  forgotten  everything  but  Philip ; 
— "  Perhaps  their  trouble  is  beyond  curing,"  I  re- 
marked casually. 


184          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

"  Is  this  your  new  religion  ?  "  he  asked  earnestly. 
"  I  thought  all  things  were  possible  to  God  —  no  evil 
so  great  but  that  good  could  overcome  it." 

"  Bless  your  dear  heart !  "  I  could  not  help  ex- 
claiming. "  You  are  making  better  progress  than  I 
am.  You  are  right.  God's  law  is  always  better 
than  man's  law." 

"If  we  work  together,  Katheryne,"  he  said,  smil- 
ing at  me  a  little  wistfully. 

"  I  am  sure  we  will  succeed."  Involuntarily,  my 
hands  went  out  to  him;  he  clasped  them  firmly  a 
moment,  then  hastily  dropped  them,  turned  from  me 
and  abruptly  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER    XXV 

SEPTEMBER. 

BRIGHT  faces  gathered  about  the  breakfast  table 
this  morning.  Philip  is  a  well-poised  adaptive 
man  and  fitted  readily  into  our  home  life,  having 
traveled  extensively,  he  had  many  things  of  in- 
terest to  relate.  He  not  only  talked  freely,  but 
had  the  happy  faculty  of  drawing  the  best  out  of 
those  about  him.  I  had  never  seen  Donald  so  ani- 
mated ;  he  revealed  a  side  I  had  never  drawn  upon  — 
a  mirthfulness  I  had  never  discovered.  The  chil- 
dren were  joyous,  recognizing  with  the  quick  in- 
stinct of  childhood,  a  sympathetic  friend.  Each  was 
eager  to  tell  of  the  most  loved  haunts  and  posses- 
sions. I  was  silent,  reflecting  the  brightness  of  the 
others,  watching  Donald  in  wonder,  and  ever  and 
again,  meeting  the  sunny  eyes  of  our  guest. 

Breakfast  over,  Donald  consulted  his  watch  and 
said  he  must  hasten  to  catch  his  train.  "  I  want  you 
to  take  Philip  for  a  gallop  this  morning,  Katheryne. 
The  horses  have  not  been  ridden  for  some  time  and 
will  require  careful  handling;  but  unless  you  have 
forgotten  many  things,  Phil,  that  you  knew  in  your 
younger  days,  you  can  master  my  steed.  And 
185 


186          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

Katheryne  knows  her  horse  too  well  for  me  to  fear 
for  her." 

My  eyes  appealed  to  him,  I  scarcely  knew  why. 
"  Don't  go  to  the  city  today,  Donald,"  I  begged ; 
"  ride  with  us ;  we  will  all  enjoy  it  more.  Get  Billy's 
horse." 

"  Impossible,"  he  replied,  almost  impatiently ;  "  I 
have  an  important  appointment  at  ten  which  I  must 
keep,  and  I  must  be  off.  Good-bye,"  and  with  a 
wave  of  the  hand,  he  was  away. 

Philip  went  to  the  stables  to  become  acquainted 
with  the  horses,  and  when  they  were  brought  to  the 
door  with  their  satin  skins  reflecting  the  sunshine, 
I  was  ready  for  the  ride  and  filled  with  expectancy. 
Nothing  I  so  enjoy  as  a  quick  gallop  over  our 
smooth  roads  —  one  of  my  few  accomplishments 
I  have  not  allowed  to  grow  rusty.  The  horses  we 
now  have  are  colts  of  the  old  Diana  —  family  pets, 
but  full  of  mettle.  They  are  Kentucky  bred,  from 
a  good  old  saddle  strain,  with  fine,  slender  necks, 
and  a  look  in  the  eyes  like  that  of  an  eagle  —  some- 
thing wild  and  free  —  an  intelligence  I  love  to  see  in 
the  tossing,  high-bred  heads. 

Philip  proved  himself  an  expert  horseman,  keeping 
his  mount  under  perfect  control,  yet  with  an  easy 
hand,  so  that  she  enjoyed  the  gallop  as  much  as  our- 
selves. The  horses  were  eager  to  go  and  we  covered 
mile  after  mile  at  a  quick  gallop  before  they  were 
ready  to  walk  quietly,  side  by  side  through  the  soft, 
yellow  light.  'Twas  a  perfect  September  morning, 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          187 

carrying  that  peculiar  mellowness  of  autumn  that 
fills  the  heart  with  quietness,  as  that  of  work  well 
done.  For  the  time  being,  all  the  landscape  was 
ours ;  our  eyes  embraced  it  and  our  imaginations 
created  fancies  about  its  hills  and  streams  and 
woods,  its  purple  distances  and  its  nearby  marshes, 
yellow  with  coreopsis. 

Philip  told  me  of  that  strange  country,  Australia, 
with  shadows  flitting  over  his  face,  but  no  mention 
of  why  he  had  sought  Donald.  We  talked  as  strang- 
ers will,  of  everything  but  ourselves;  of  the  books 
we  had  read;  the  music  we  had  heard;  the  scenes 
through  which  we  had  traveled.  But  as  time  passed, 
all  strangeness  disappeared  and  we  talked  as  friends. 
Philip  drew  me  out;  I  was  like  a  stringed  instru- 
ment, responding  to  the  lightest  touch  of  a  practical 
hand.  So  the  beautiful  morning  went,  our  eyes  ever 
meeting  in  mutual  confidence  and  understanding; 
and  our  faces  must  have  reflected  the  joy  of  the  day 
when  at  last  we  drew  rein  at  Margaret's  gate,  talk- 
ing with  the  abandon  of  life-time  friends.  Mar- 
garet glanced  questioningly  from  one  to  the  other, 
as  we  laughed  and  chatted  so  unrestrainedly,  re- 
calling to  me  the  fact  that  my  companion  was  an 
acquaintance  of  a  few  hours.  I  glanced  at  him  sur- 
reptitiously to  make  sure  that  his  face  was  an  un- 
familiar one,  so  completely  had  I  forgotten  outward 
appearances  in  our  comradery. 

"  Donald  has  issued  an  edict,  Margaret,  that  all 
his  household  are  to  pay  homage  to  Mr.  Wentworth 


188          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

—  Damon  and  Pythias  — "  I  laughed,  "  and  one 
rendering  of  this  order  is  that  you  must  take  lunch 
with  us.  Donald  will  not  be  home,  so  Mr.  Went- 
worth  will  be  dependent  upon  you  and  me  for  en- 
tertainment, and  we  must  give  an  account  to 
Donald." 

"  I  will  try  and  make  your  task  an  easy  one,  Mrs. 
Saunders,"  Philip  said,  with  a  cordial  laugh,  and 
gallantly  doffing  his  hat  to  Margaret,  continued, 
graciously,  "  I  never  so  appreciated  the  worth  of 
Donald's  friendship  as  now,  when  I  am  made  a  part 
of  his  household." 

After  lunch,  Philip  went  into  the  city  for  the  aft- 
ernoon and  the  house  and  garden  seemed  lonely. 
A  sense  of  disquiet  took  possession  of  me ;  my  usual 
energy  vanished  and  I  wandered  aimlessly  about, 
doing  nothing.  Even  the  children  found  me  un- 
social and  left  me  to  follow  their  own  fancies. 

THE  men  came  to  dinner  early,  and  an  illumina- 
tion seemed  to  transform  the  house  with  their  com- 
ing. A  storm  was  brewing;  great  banks  of  clouds 
looming  up  in  the  west,  and  a  cold  northwest  wind 
blowing,  making  the  library,  with  its  close  drawn 
shades  and  sparkling  logs  of  pine,  the  light  of  which 
brought  out  the  soft,  warm  tones  of  the  room,  a  most 
inviting  place  to  spend  the  evening.  Donald  read 
his  evening  paper,  while  Philip  had  a  glorious  romp 
with  the  children.  They  played  "  bear  "  with  Philip 
on  all  fours  —  a  big,  black  grizzly.  Who  cannot 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  189 

recall  the  tense,  screaming  sensation  which  shook 
him  when  the  bear,  after  struggling  frantically  be- 
hind his  cage  of  chairs,  finally  escaped  and  pur- 
sued with  such  bear-like  strides  that  when  we  were 
captured  our  breath  came  in  gasps,  half  joy,  half 
fright,  and  we  were  only  conscious  of  an  intense 
desire  to  be  free  again ;  when,  springing  into  our 
refuge  under  the  couch,  we  shouted,  "  tick-tock, 
double  lock !  "  and  we  felt  that  we  could  breathe 
again  and  were  safe,  let  the  bear  prowl  and  growl 
and  sniff  as  much  as  he  pleased.  The  hilarious 
game  continued  until  Sarah  came  to  carry  Elizabeth 
and  Allan  off  to  bed.  I,  too,  soon  retired  to  my 
room,  leaving  Donald  and  his  friend  to  their  cigars 
and  their  man's  talk.  I  knew  Philip's  gaze  followed 
me  up  the  stairs,  and  because  I  could  not  help  it,  I 
turned  and  looked  back  to  meet  his  smiling  eyes. 

Again,  I  knelt  at  Allan's  bed  and  asked  God  to 
destroy  this  nameless  enmity  that  kept  Donald  and 
me  apart. 


OCTOBER-. 

THE  middle  of  October,  and  Philip  is  still  our 
guest.     The  weeks  have  passed  quickly  by,  the 
days  gliding  one  into  the  other,  with  little  to  mark 
their  going.     But  tomorrow,  Philip  leaves  us.     Be- 
yond that  time,  life  seems  a  blank  —  I  cannot  plan 

—  I  cannot  think  where  life  will  lead.     I  only  know 
that  Philip  Wentworth  has  become  the  sun  of  my 
existence.     When  this  awakening  came  to  me,  my 
first  thought  was  for  Donald.     "  I  know  now  the 
pain  of  the  years  by  my  side,"  I  said ;  "  I  know  the 
suffering  that   has   changed   his   very   nature  —  to 
dwell  with  the  loved  object,  yet  to  receive  no  love  in 
return."     But  even  as  the  thought  came,  I  knew  it 
was  wrong  —  my  heart  refuted  the  false  conclusion 

—  it  could  not  be  deluded.     I  knew,  by  a  subtle 
something  beyond  the  power  of  words,  that  as  I 
loved,  even  so  was  I  loved  in  return ;  and  my  heart 
sang  exultingly  —  would  not  be  denied  its  triumph 

—  love  had  been  so  long  in  coming  to  me. 

No  sense  of  guilt  came  with  this  awakening,  only 
joy.  Love  had  come  unsought,  had  searched  me  out 
in  my  own  home.  It  came  knocking  at  my  heart 
when  I  was  engaged  in  the  performance  of  duty; 

190 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  191 

found  me  bound  by  every  outward  tie  that  one  holds 
dear.  Yet  the  iron  bars  of  duty  were  no  barrier 
against  the  golden  arrow  of  love.  I  just  as  naturally 
loved  Philip  Wentworth  as  the  flower  loves  sun- 
shine— 'by  the  natural  law  —  by  the  God-given  in- 
stinct, which,  if  heeded,  leads  unerringly  to  that  in- 
fluence that  completes  us,  and  makes  man  and 
woman  one.  It  came  fluttering  softly  down  as  a 
dove  might  descend,  with  the  first  hand-clasp;  a 
sense  of  peace,  completeness,  rest,  came  to  me  when 
Philip's  eyes  first  sought  mine.  I  now  know,  as  I 
have  always  dreamed,  that  love  is  a  baptism,  opening 
up  vistas  of  inspiration  and  certainty  of  accomplish- 
ment that  I  have  always  felt  should  cement  the  love 
of  man  and  woman.  Now  when  this  great  gift  is 
mine,  as  in  a  vision  it  comes,  I  can  understand  that 
the  serpent  entered  the  heart  of  Eve,  as  that  of  all 
women,  arousing  in  her  the  desire  to  dominate  man's 
life,  to  feel  herself  a  necessity  to  him.  The  dove  of 
peace  and  love  of  home  is  also  there,  but  unless  this 
dove  of  human  love  is  guided  by  divine  love  — 
listens  for  God's  directing  —  the  serpent,  as  of  old, 
ever  watchful  to  lead  astray,  is  constantly  charming 
the  dove  toward  the  forked  tongue  of  evil  —  the 
serpent  had  overpowered  the  dove  when  I  married 
Donald. 

No  word  of  love  has  passed  between  Philip  and 
me  —  other  than  that  of  eye  and  hand  and  tacit 
understanding  —  and  never  will.  Philip  is  Donald's 
friend,  and  I,  Donald's  wife.  Tomorrow  he  will  go 


192          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

out  of  my  life,  with  love  unspoken,  never  to  return. 

Philip  and  I  have  never  talked  of  the  sordid  cause 
that  brought  him  to  us.  I  have,  rather,  endeavored 
to  keep  my  pact  with  Donald  by  avoiding  discussions 
of  the  dark  side  of  life,  and  emphasizing  the  bright- 
ness one  might  cultivate.  He  had  seen  too  much  of 
life  through  a  glass,  darkly,  and  I  well  know  that 
human  sympathy  with  our  woes  but  magnifies  them. 
He  only  is  a  friend  who  gives  us  courage  to  do  the 
right  and  to  overcome  the  wrong.  I  talked  much 
of  Allan's  healing,  trying  to  make  clear  to  Philip 
the  wonder  of  it,  but  he  could  not  understand ;  he 
had  not  seen  the  seeming  miracle  —  only  heard. 
That  an  unseen  power  could  supply  our  needs  and 
remove  our  discords  through  right  reasoning  and 
living  was  something  he  could  not  grasp.  Not  yet 
was  he  willing  to  acknowledge  himself  dependent  on 
God.  Pride  of  self  and  unaided  accomplishment 
still  held  his  mind. 

"  Your  own  thoughts  are  so  beautiful,  Katheryne," 
he  said  to  me  one  day  when  I  had  been  unusually 
insistent,  "  that  you  see  beauty  and  goodness  in  all 
things,  even  in  this,  to  me,  incomprehensible  philos- 
ophy. But  Donald  —  hard-headed  materialist  that 
he  has  always  been  —  I  cannot  fathom  his  willing- 
ness to  enter  this  mystic  realm  —  your  influence, 
perhaps,"  and  he  gave  me  a  sunny  smile. 

It  was  hard  to  leave  him  unconvinced,  when  I 
knew  so  well  the  wonderful  power  of  God,  and  his 
great  need  of  that  power ;  but  I  also  knew  that  argu- 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  193 

ment  was  useless;  you  cannot  convince  a  man 
against  his  will.  He  would  come  only  when  his 
heart  hungered  for  that  which  was  beyond  the  power 
of  man  to  give.  I  had  blown  to  him  the  aroma  of 
truth  and  was  content  to  let  it  exert  its  own  influ- 
ence. 

Donald  had  striven  hard  with  Philip  to  convince 
him  that  the  law  of  God  would  bring  greater  happi- 
ness than  the  law  of  man,  but  without  avail;  the 
most  that  he  had  done  was  to  postpone  the  legal 
separation. 

The  autumn  has  been  unusually  beautiful  and  we 
have  ridden  daily.  Occasionally,  Donald  has  gone 
with  us,  but  much  more  often  Philip  and  I  rode 
alone.  For  days  I  strove  against  this  close  com- 
panionship; I  pleaded  occupation,  and  many  other 
reasons  easy  for  a  housewife  and  mother  to  find 
for  remaining  at  home,  but  Donald  had  brushed 
them  all  aside ;  he  would  not  listen  to  anything  that 
threatened  Philip's  pleasure.  He  feared  to  have 
time  hang  heavily  for  him  —  he  loved  him  and 
wanted  to  keep  him  with  us ;  wanted  to  destroy  his 
false  views  of  existence ;  and  at  last,  when  I  could 
refuse  no  longer  without  appearing  rude,  I  yielded 
wholly  to  Donald's  will  and  gave  myself  up  to  the 
charm  of  Philip's  presence,  realizing  with  a  pang 
that  Donald  was  not  considering  me,  or  my  welfare. 
His  thoughts  were  all  for  Philip's  happiness.  He 
was  determined  to  make  him  forget.  So  in  time, 
we  came  to  ride  side  by  side,  silent,  with  the  silence 


194          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

of  perfect  understanding  —  the  silence  that  pro- 
claims friends,  between  whom  no  jarring  element 
exists. 

Of  late,  Billy  has  developed  a  sudden  desire  for 
daily  riding  and  for  the  past  week  has  accompanied 
us  to  whatever  distance  fancy  led.  Days  that  Philip 
did  not  go  into  the  city,  but  remained  with  me  at 
Rosedale,  Margaret  brought  her  work  and  remained 
with  me  until  Donald  and  Billy  came  in  the  evening. 
They  were  acting  as  my  guardian  angels,  shielding 
me  from  myself.  I  recognized  their  attitude  and  did 
not  resent  it.  I  had  ceased  trying  to  buffet  the 
waves  fast  closing  over  me  and  was  drifting  with  the 
tide  far  out  to  sea  —  only  Donald  was  blind. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

OCTOBER. 

decided  upon  a  night  train,  giving  him- 
self  one  last  long  day  with  us.  Universal 
melancholy  pervaded  the  house  this  morning. 
Philip  has  become  one  of  us  —  he  brought  a  joy  into 
our  home  that  it  had  never  known  before ;  he  has  en- 
deared himself  to  each  member  of  the  family.  The 
children  feel  that  they  are  losing  a  playmate;  no 
fairies  are  so  wonderful;  no  goblins  so  awe-inspir- 
ing, as  those  that  people  his  stories.  His  "  cozy 
lion  "  with  its  efforts  to  overcome  a  desire  for  de- 
vouring "  fat  babies  "  has  become  daily  diet.  So  in- 
sistent has  Allan  been  on  "  Bear "  that  I  advised 
knee  protectors  for  the  bears, —  great  and  small. 
Both  he  and  Elizabeth  are  in  open  rebellion  at  men- 
tion of  Philip's  going.  Sarah  has  never  harassed 
herself  so  diligently  for  variety  of  dishes  to  tempt 
the  palate,  so  appreciative  is  Philip  of  all  her  inven- 
tions. The  horses'  coats  have  never  been  so  ex- 
tremely polished  as  under  Philip's  watchful  eye. 
"  Ye'r  a  rare  horseman,  Mr.  Wentworth,"  Mike  said 
one  day,  as  he  brought  up  the  horses,  beaming  un- 
der Philip's  words  of  approval,  "  and  he  knows 
i95 


196          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

vigetables  and  plants  as  well  as  horses,  Miss  Kath- 
eryne." 

Philip,  himself,  seemed  in  a  lethargic  state  of  mind 
this  morning ;  his  appealing  eyes  followed  me  wher- 
ever I  went.  They  were  constantly  seeking  mine, 
but  I  dared  not  meet  them,  knowing  the  message 
they  carried. 

PLANS  were  made  for  a  last  ride  in  the  afternoon, 
in  which  all  but  Elizabeth  and  Allan  were  to  partici- 
pate. We  were  to  explore  a  cave  some  miles  distant, 
a  curious  natural  feature,  to  which  we  had  not 
ridden  since  Philip  came,  having  waited  until  Donald 
could  accompany  us.  This  was  to  be  a  real  holi- 
day, with  dinner  cooked  in  the  cave ;  our  only  regret 
being  that  the  children  could  not  be  a  part  of  it; 
but  Sarah  had  promised  them  an  afternoon  in  the 
shops,  which  allayed  their  disappointment. 

The  day  was  like  early  September;  the  brilliant 
coloring  of  the  leaves  presenting  to  the  eye  a  kalei- 
doscopic view,  a  magical  effect,  ever  varying  with 
the  thinness  or  density  of  the  atmosphere  through 
which  we  looked.  The  birds  with  their  plans  for 
migrating  filled  the  air  with  their  uncertain  move- 
ments, flying  hither  and  thither,  now  high,  now  low, 
in  squads  and  companies,  then  coming  together  in 
battalions  to  consult  their  leader,  giving  constant 
motion  and  sound  to  the  beautiful  landscape. 

We  rode  through  country  roads  and  lanes,  drink- 
ing in  the  beauty  of  the  country-side.  Nothing  is 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS  197 

more  alluring  than  these  unfrequented  by-ways. 
Who  knows  what  surprise  may  await  him  at  the 
next  turn,  or  what  beautiful  picture  may  confront 
him  from  the  top  of  yonder  hill! 

We  passed  through  woodland  paths,  flecked  with 
the  shadows  of  the  thinning  leaves;  we  paused  by 
the  bank  of  the  winding  stream  to  admire  its  fringe 
of  wide  spreading  elms.  At  a  gallop,  we  rapidly 
covered  the  smooth  stretches  of  roads,  taking  the 
hills  at  a  more  leisurely  gait,  bringing  our  horses  to 
a  walk  and  carefully  picking  our  way  as  we  passed, 
single  file,  through  a  rough,  stony  ravine,  which  in- 
vited us  to  climb  its  rugged  sides  to  secure  the  glory 
of  its  bitter-sweet,  and  in  the  depths  of  which  flowed 
a  tiny,  gurgling  rivulet,  sending  up  its  laughing  chal- 
lenge of  greatness,  "  For  men  may  come  and  men 
may  go,  but  I  go  on  forever  " —  until,  at  last,  we 
rode  down  a  wind-swept  hill,  to  find  the  carefully 
guarded  entrance  of  the  cave  at  its  base.  Shrubs 
woven  together  with  wild  clematis  and  poison  ivy, 
completely  screened  the  cave's  mouth  from  all  direc- 
tions—  this  wall  of  nature's  weaving,  reaching  to 
the  river  bank  —  and  you  feel  a  delicious  thrill  creep 
over  you,  as  the  location  suggests  a  pirate's  rendez- 
vous. 

After  enjoying  the  beautiful  view  spread  out  be- 
fore us,  we  dismounted  and  tethered  our  horses 
securely  to  the  near-by  trees,  and  with  lighted  torch 
began  our  tour  of  inspection.  So  wild  and  primitive 
are  the  surroundings  here  that  I  never  enter  this 


198 


cave  without  the  sensation  of  being  an  explorer,  so 
impressed  am  I  with  the  awful  gloom  pervading  it, 
trembling  with  wonder  as  to  what  I  will  find  and 
filled  with  awe  at  nature's  handiwork  —  yet,  I  have 
visited  it  since  childhood. 

Billy,  acting  as  guide  for  our  little  party,  directed 
us  carefully  over  the  fissures,  from  whose  subter- 
raneous depths  came  the  hollow  gurgle  of  rushing 
waters,  which  made  one  gasp  at  the  thought  of  what 
might  be  the  result  of  a  misstep ;  on,  into  the  temple, 
with  its  columned  roof  and  stately  altar,  where  one 
felt  the  sacred  atmosphere  of  prayer  breathing 
through  its  magnificent  aisles  and  corridors  —  so 
realistic  was  nature's  building  —  and  I  found  my- 
self breathing  a  little  prayer  for  guidance.  Then, 
into  the  Crystal  Palace,  where  our  insignificant  torch 
set  each  tiny  stalactite  scintillating  with  light,  giving 
us  a  vivid  illustration  of  the  meaning  of  reflection,  I 
thought,  as  we  stood  watching  the  rays  flash  from 
stalactite  to  stalagmite,  and  away  into  the  farthest 
corner  of  the  cavern,  from  whence  sparkles  of  light 
came  back  to  us,  like  twinkling  eyes  responding  to  a 
spoken  message ;  and  at  last,  as  we  ascended  quite  a 
rise,  we  came  into  what  Billy  called  "  Nature's  Din- 
ing Hall."  Here  the  sunlight,  filtering  through 
crevices  from  above,  gave  a  soft,  mellow  light,  most 
pleasant  for  feasting  —  and  here,  Margaret  and  I 
fried  the  bacon  and  boiled  the  coffee  over  the  fagots 
we  had  carried  in  and  lighted,  and  soon  we  were 
dining  as  primitive  man. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    199 

Philip,  during  our  brisk  ride,  had  thrown  off  his 
apparent  somnolence,  and  was  now,  as  ever,  the  life 
of  the  party,  each,  in  response  to  his  magic  touch, 
giving  of  his  best.  He  had  the  rare  gift  of  touching 
to  harmony  the  strongest  chord,  of  bringing  to  the 
surface  the  best  within  one.  He  seemed  to  set  at 
liberty  the  thoughts  of  the  reserved;  to  create  bub- 
bling enthusiasm  in  the  gay,  by  the  power  of  his 
sunny  nature. 

I  am  sure  none  of  us  will  ever  forget  that  beauti- 
ful afternoon  and  the  meal  we  ate  under  the  surface 
of  the  earth.  When  hunger  was  appeased,  Billy  led 
us  still  farther  into  the  cave,  showing  us  the  many 
curious  formations  caused  by  the  combination  of 
water  and  sandstone.  After  a  time,  we  came  to  a 
mass  of  debris  as  if  part  of  the  roof  of  the  vault  had 
fallen  in.  We  clambered  over  this  pile  as  best  we 
could,  and  as  the  eye  became  accustomed  to  the  dark- 
ness, in  the  dim  light  of  our  torch,  we  could  see 
deep,  clear  water,  reflecting  the  roof  like  a  mirror. 
A  tiny  canoe  was  moored  at  the  margin  of  the  pool, 
in  which  Billy  paddled  us,  one  at  a  time,  to  the  op- 
posite shore,  dimly  discerned  in  the  darkness.  A 
dome-like  roof  was  above  us,  from  which  hung  in- 
numerable white  stalactites,  and  deep  in  the  water, 
we  could  see  stalagmites  rising  in  pinnacles  to  meet 
us.  With  this  little  lake,  we  had  reached  the  limit 
of  the  cave,  so  turned  and  retraced  our  steps;  and 
when  at  last,  we  emerged  from  its  depths,  the  sun 
was  very  near  the  horizon.  The  landscape  was  in 


200          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

the  clasp  of  that  last  mellow  light  that  blends  all,  as 
a  painter  blends  his  colors.  The  chill  of  an  autumn 
evening  was  in  the  air.  Our  horses  were  trembling 
with  cold  from  their  long  standing,  and  whinnying 
from  loneliness. 

We  were  quickly  mounted  and  headed  homeward, 
but  our  steeds,  eager  for  their  warm  stalls,  were 
restive  and  hard  to  control.  Flushed  with  the  pleas- 
ure of  the  long,  happy  afternoon  and  the  close  prox- 
imity of  Philip,  striving  to  enjoy  to  the  fullest  extent 
the  present  moment,  to  close  my  mind  to  the  dark 
days  confronting  me,  I  little  dreamed  that  the  crisis 
of  my  life  was  awaiting  me,  lurking  in  the  path  over 
which  I  had  ridden  so  often.  We  never  knew  how 
it  happened  —  one  of  those  strange,  unexpected  de- 
velopments, as  though  some  evil  genius  forced  a 
climax  —  these  unlocked  for  occurrences  —  or  have 
they  a  deeper  meaning  —  the  uncovering  of  error? 

Philip  and  I,  mutually  enfolded  in  thought,  and 
having  the  best  mounts,  had  ridden  far  ahead  of  the 
others,  leading  the  way  through  one  of  the  narrow 
woodland  paths.  My  horse,  nervous  from  the  time 
we  entered  the  wood,  crouching  at  the  deepening 
shadows,  shying  and  springing  at  the  crackling  twigs, 
suddenly,  as  a  flock  of  blackbirds  whirred  over  his 
head,  bolted.  I  lost  control  of  him  and  he  was  soon 
running  at  breakneck  speed  along  the  path,  when, 
without  warning,  urged  on  by  his  mad  fears,  he  ran 
into  a  tree,  dragging  me  from  the  saddle  and  hurling 
me  to  the  ground,  unconscious.  How  long  I  lay  in 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          201 

this  condition,  I  do  not  know.  When  I  awoke,  I 
was  in  Philip's  arms,  held  close  to  him  —  he  was 
calling  to  me  in  endearing  terms.  There  are  blessed 
moments,  when  time,  place  and  conditions  are  for- 
gotten; when  eternity  lifts  the  web  of  the  years  and 
we  pass  through  into  profound  stillness;  when,  for 
the  space  of  a  breath,  we  live  forever.  I  opened  my 
eyes  to  look  into  Philip's,  so  near  my  own.  Love 
held  me  in  a  mighty  grip.  My  arm  went  about  his 
neck  —  our  lips  met. 

I  was  brought  to  myself  —  made  to  realize  that 
life  had  not  changed  —  by  the  arrival  of  my  husband 
and  two  best  friends.  I  withdrew  myself  from 
Philip's  arms ;  he  lifted  me  to  my  feet.  I  was  silent, 
dazed,  terrified  at  thought  of  the  scene  they  had 
looked  upon. 

A  look  of  horror  crossed  Philip's  face.  No  word 
was  spoken.  We  were  as  though  turned  to  stone. 
I  was  conscious  of  the  terrible,  set  look  in  Donald's 
face,  of  Billy's  grieved  eyes,  but  no  one  moved.  I 
was  not  hurt,  only  stunned;  and  my  horse,  a  pet, 
his  fright  over,  came  whinnying  back  to  me,  reliev- 
ing for  a  moment  the  sickening  situation.  Billy 
hastened  to  assist  me  to  mount,  and  our  little  caval- 
cade rode  home  in  oppressive  silence.  No  funeral 
procession  ever  carried  a  greater  weight  of  woe. 

Margaret  and  Billy  left  us  without  adieux  as  we 
neared  their  gate.  Mike  was  waiting  to  take  our 
horses  as  we  rode  up,  and  assisted  me  to  dismount. 
Still,  that  dead  silence!  As  we  entered  the  house, 


202          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

we  were  met  with  loud  shouts  of  glee  from  the  wait- 
ing children,  their  voices  falling  on  my  ears  like 
blows.  They  rushed  to  meet  us  with  outstretched 
arms  and  shining  eyes,  but  they  were  brushed 
roughly  aside  and  sharply  dismissed  by  Donald.  As 
they  turned  from  us,  with  tears  in  their  questioning 
eyes  and  began  slowly  climbing  the  stairs,  I  involun- 
tarily followed  the  drooping  little  figures,  but  I  was 
quickly  recalled  by  Donald's  voice,  low,  sharp,  de- 
cisive : 

"  Wait,  Katheryne,  don't  leave  us !  "  he  said. 

No  thought  of  disobeying  the  command  came  to 
my  mind.  Automatically,  I  removed  my  hat  and 
stood,  waiting,  cowering,  for  the  blow  to  fall  —  but 
in  all  that  misery  of  soul,  my  blood  was  dancing  — 
thrilling  with  love's  first  kiss. 

Donald  stood  looking  intently  at  me,  with  an  ex- 
pression so  varied  I  could  not  understand  it ;  despair 
and  scorn,  wonder  and  hatred  were  there,  but  no  ray 
of  kindness  could  I  find.  I  dared  not  approach  him. 
After  long  moments  of  this  incomprehensible,  intent 
probing  of  my  face,  he  turned  his  back  upon  me  and 
faced  Philip: 

"  No  one  could  mistake  the  pretty  scene  played 
this  evening,"  he  said,  in  a  voice,  tense  with  anger ; 
"  one  can  but  regret  that  the  audience  was  so  small  " 
—  with  biting  sarcasm.  "  Faugh !  it  sickens  me,  the 
same  common  old  story  —  the  press  is  filled  with 
them  daily  —  an  unsuspecting  husband,  a  dissatis- 
fied wife,  the  faithless  friend !  " 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          203 

He  turned  from  us  with  inexpressible  scorn  and 
walked  to  the  fire,  where  he  stood,  nonchalantly, 
resting  his  elbow  on  the  mantel,  quietly  contempla- 
tive, as  though  lost  in  dreams  suggested  by  the  blaz- 
ing logs  —  oh  the  horror  of  those  silent  moments! 
Can  I  ever  forget  them  ?  They  seemed  an  eternity ! 
He  meant  us  to  feel  the  scourge  of  his  contempt! 

At  last,  still  easily  resting  his  elbow  upon  the 
mantel,  he  raised  his  head  to  survey  us,  with  a  sar- 
donic laugh.  I  was  dumb  with  agony  and  fear. 
Philip  stood,  as  though  spell-bound  by  that  terrible 
look  of  hate. 

"  Truly,  this  has  been  a  comedy  of  errors,"  Don- 
ald proceeded  with  his  mirthless  laugh,  addressing 
Philip.  "  In  my  fool's  dream  of  confidence  in  my 
wife  and  faith  in  my  friend,  I  asked  her  to  assist 
me  in  making  you  forget  your  wrongs,  in  steering 
you  into  new  channels  of  thought,  away  from  the 
goal  you  sought.  She  has  obeyed  to  the  letter ;  she 
has  most  truly  made  you  forget  —  but  instead  of 
saving  one  home,  she  has  wrecked  two.  But  the 
fool  will  no  longer  add  zest  to  the  play.  This  house 
is  hers;  I  cross  its  threshold  for  the  last  time,  to- 
night. I  leave  it,  and  her,  to  you,  my  valued 
friend." 

During  this  scathing  denunciation,  Donald  had  not 
glanced  my  way.  Philip  stood  rigid,  as  though 
turned  to  stone.  As  Donald  finished  speaking  he 
bowed  mockingly  to  Philip  and  turned  to  leave  the 
room,  not  looking  at  me.  I  reached  my  arms  to 


204          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

him  despairingly  —  he  would  not  see;  I  called  to 
him,  pleadingly :  "  Donald,  do  not  leave  me !  " — 
but  he  heeded  me  no  more  than  if  the  silence  had 
not  been  broken. 

"  Stay,  Donald !  "  Philip  cried,  brokenly,  as  though 
waking  from  a  trance.  "  I  am  going."  But  Donald 
strode  on,  unheeding;  it  was  like  talking  to  a  man 
with  deaf  ears. 

"  You  must  not  go,  Donald !  "  Philip  exclaimed, 
passionately,  striding  forward  and  grasping  him  by 
the  shoulders,  as  his  hand  turned  the  doorknob. 
"You  misjudge  Katheryne;  you  are  bitterly  cruel! 
I  am  wholly  to  blame ;  you  — " 

"  Be  silent,  Philip ! "  Donald  demanded,  hoarsely, 
shaking  Philip's  hand  from  his  shoulder,  and  for  a 
dreadful  moment,  I  feared  he  would  strike ;  but  his 
clenched  hand  fell  heavily  at  his  side.  "  Why 
talk?  "  he  said  hopelessly.  "  Words  count  for  little 
in  the  face  of  deeds."  And  then,  all  the  bitterness 
of  the  years  swaying  him,  he  hurled  out  the  biting 
words : 

"  Katheryne  has  never  been  my  wife  in  heart  — 
I  have  always  known  it.  I  relinquish  all  right  to 
her."  Again  that  sardonic  smile  took  possession  of 
his  face,  too  repellant  to  look  upon  — "  Relinquish  in 
favor  of  my  most  loved,  most  trusted  friend.  But 
pardon  me,  Phil,  for  presenting  to  you  that  which  is 
so  evidently  already  in  your  possession." 

"  You  are  mad,  Donald ;  blind  to  everything  but 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    205 

your  own  conclusions!  Have  you  no  mercy?" 
But  only  the  jarring  echo  of  the  slammed  door  re- 
plied —  Donald  was  gone. 

Slowly,  silently,  Philip  crossed  the  room  to  where 
I  stood,  and  paused,  with  bowed  head,  before  me. 

"  Forgive  me,  Katheryne,  the  great,  calamity  I 
have  brought  upon  you.  Denials  are  useless  now. 
I  meant  to  leave  you  with  my  love  buried  in  my 
heart.  I  should  have  gone  long  ago,  when  I  first 
felt  your  great  attraction  for  me,  which,  to  speak 
true,  came  with  that  first  hand-clasp;  but,  like  the 
helpless  moth,  held  by  the  charm  of  something  he 
does  not  understand,  I  staid  on  and  on,  bound,  I 
said,  by  the  sweetness  of  your  home  life,  the  chil- 
dren, friendship  for  Donald — blinding  myself  to 
the  real  reason.  When  honor  rebelled  and  forced 
me  into  a  corner,  I  put  a  quietus  on  it  by  saying: 
'  No  one  will  suffer  but  myself.  If  I  am  willing  to 
bear  the  burden  alone,  what  matters  a  few  more 
weeks  of  undreamed  of  happiness?  '  And  now,  can 
you  ever  forgive  this  thing  I  have  brought  into  your 
life  ?  "  He  paused,  but  I  had  no  answer  to  make. 
"  And,  Katheryne,"  he  continued,  "  while  I  plead 
for  myself,  I  must  also  plead  for  Donald.  You 
must  not  remember  the  harsh  things  he  has  said  to- 
night ;  he  was  beside  himself  with  pain  and  rage 
and  disappointment.  We  have  been  thrown  in  the 
closest  intimacy  for  weeks  —  how  could  he  know 
that  what  he  saw  tonight  was  one  of  those  moments 


206          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

unaccounted  for,  when  no  one  is  in  control?  For- 
give him.  I  would  give  all  the  rest  of  my  life  to 
undo  what  has  been  done  tonight." 

I  clenched  the  back  of  the  chair  against  which  I 
leaned,  to  control  the  emotion  rising  within  me.  As 
he  stood  before  me,  forgetful  of  self,  pleading  so 
eloquently  for  the  absent  friend,  my  wronged  hus- 
band, I  longed  to  go  to  him,  to  comfort  him,  to  take 
the  pain  out  of  his  sunny  eyes  —  but  God  helped  me 
to  remember  the  ties  which  bound  me. 

"  Do  not  grieve  so,  Philip,"  I  said,  when  I  could 
control  my  voice.  "  I  find  it  very  easy  to  forgive 
both  you  and  my  husband,  for  neither  of  you  are 
guilty.  I,  only,  am  to  blame." 

"  No,  no !  Katheryne,"  he  protested. 

"  There,  Philip,  let  me  speak  on,"  I  said,  raising 
my  hand  against  his  protest.  "  It  will  ease  my  heart 
a  little  and  make  conditions  clearer  to  you.  Why 
should  I  hide  behind  my  woman's  pride,  throwing 
the  burden  upon  you  and  Donald  ?  This  is  only  one 
more  punishment,  resulting  from  youthful  ignorance 
and  egotism.  You  heard  the  terrible  accusations 
Donald  made  tonight?  They  are  all  true.  I  never 
have  been  his  wife,  although  the  mother  of  his  chil- 
dren—  because,  I  never  loved  him.  Donald's  only 
wrong  was  in  marrying  me,  knowing  this.  And 
now,  for  some  time,  before  you  came,  I  have  known 
that  Donald's  love  was  gone.  I  have  not  wilfully 
failed  him.  I  did  not  know  what  love  was.  It  took 
ten  years,  Philip,  of  ignorant  indifference  to  murder 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          207 

my  husband's  love,  for  love  will  not  thrive  unless 
fed  in  kind." 

"Why  judge  yourself  so  harshly,  Katheryne? 
You  are  not  the  kind  of  woman  that  men  forget," 
Philip  said,  compassionately. 

"  There  is  no  mistake,  it  is  gone,  gone  beyond  re- 
call. This  has  all  come  gradually,  of  course.  There 
was  a  time,  I  believe,  when  Donald  gave  me  a  great 
love.  How  he  felt  in  those  first  years,  I  cannot  tell. 
He  was  always  kind.  I  was  so  absorbed  by  the  joys 
and  cares  of  motherhood  that  I  gave  little  thought 
as  to  whether  our  life  together  was  as  it  should  be. 
I  would  have  times  of  vague  unrest,  of  discontent, 
a  turbulent  undercurrent  that  I  could  not  define. 
But  I  never  knew,  until  Allan's  dreadful  illness  — 
that  awful  day,  when  I  found  him  in  the  garden 
path,  apparently  dead  —  and  the  heart-rending 
months  that  followed,  revealed  it  all." 

"  Poor  child,  poor  child !  "  Philip  said,  laying  his 
hand  gently  on  mine  an  instant.  "  You  have  every- 
thing deemed  essential  to  happiness,  financially,  so- 
cially —  and,  I  believed,  in  your  home  life  —  nothing 
seemed  to  be  lacking." 

"  I  have  said  little  of  my  own  life,"  Philip  con- 
tinued, musingly,  and  as  though  to  draw  my  thoughts 
from  myself.  "  There  is  so  little  to  tell ;  it  is  like 
a  barren  island,  with  no  land  marks.  I  married  a 
beautiful  nothing  —  wholly  animal  attraction;  we 
would  have  parted  the  first  two  weeks,  if  we  could 
have  escaped  each  other  without  publicity.  The 


208          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

thought  of  motherhood  to  my  wife  was  abhorrent; 
her  physician  made  it  easy  for  her  to  avoid  this 
dreaded  ordeal.  She  cared  only  for  beautiful 
clothes  and  amusement.  In  time,  the  sordidness  of 
our  life  became  unbearable  —  and  we  parted, —  with- 
out a  single  pleasant  memory  to  dwell  upon,  without 
a  regret  —  nothing  sacred,  only  barren,  wasted 
years.  My  wife's  friends  were  much  the  same  as 
herself.  When  I  came  into  your  life,  my  faith  in 
womankind  was  wholly  destroyed.  I  believed  all 
women  were  vain  and  soulless.  You,  with  your 
children,  your  garden,  your  love  of  home  and  simple 
pleasures,  were  a  revelation  to  me ;  and  —  dear  — 
forgive  the  words  I  am  going  to  speak,  but  I  am  only 
human,  only  a  man,  and  I  love  you  beyond  reason 
—  your  story  puts  a  great  temptation  before  me.  If 
you  are  an  unloved  wife,  why  not  come  where  love 
is  waiting?  "  And  his  love-lit  eyes  sought  mine  in- 
sistently. 

"If  you  had  only  come,  Philip,  in  my  long  ago 
youth!  "  I  cried — "  I  waited  so  long  for  you." 

"  Youth,  dear,  you  will  always  have  youth.  You 
have  the  charm  of  soul  and  growth,  which  holds  age 
forever  at  bay  —  and  love,  dear,  knows  neither 
youth  nor  age;  it  shines  resplendent  through  all 
time;  it  recognizes  only  the  divine  fact  that  it  has 
found  the  object  in  which  it  can  rest  secure  —  found 
that  which  rounds  out  life.  I  could  not  come  in  the 
long  ago,  Katheryne,  but  I'm  here  now,  dearest  — 
I'm  waiting  for  you.  I  can  still  feel  your  arms 


209 

about  my  neck,  the  touch  of  your  lips!  Oh,  love, 
those  moments  of  revelation  take  my  breath  with 
their  poignant  sweetness  !  Come,  dear,  come  —  rest 
in  my  arms  once  more !  " 

He  stood  leaning  over  me ;  his  breath  was  on  my 
neck;  I  could  hear  his  heart-beats.  Why  hesitate! 
Who  will  care  ?  Why  not  snatch  from  life  that  has 
treated  me  so  shabbily  this  offered  joy?  —  were  the 
clamoring  questions  thrilling  my  heart  and  clutching 
my  breath.  Heaven  seemed  to  be  in  those  waiting 
arms.  If  they  closed  about  me  once  again  there 
would  be  no  return.  I  would  be  Philip's  for  all  time. 
I  recalled  Donald's  scathing  words.  He  left  me  to 
this  great  temptation,  hurled  it  at  me  —  why  resist 
longer  ? 

"  Come,  dear,"  the  insistent  voice  repeated.  His 
hands  clasped  mine ;  he  was  drawing  me  to  him.  To 
resist  seemed  impossible.  I  felt  myself  yielding.  I 
wanted  to  yield. 

"  MOTH-ER  !  "  Allan's  sweet  treble  rang  from  the 
upper  hall.  Philip  started  back,  aghast.  I  could 
breathe  once  more,  I  could  think.  We  looked  at 
each  other  with  startled,  accusing  eyes  —  passion 
checked.  "  I  had  forgotten  my  children,  Philip,"  I 
cried  — "  forgotten  Allan !  " 

'*  Moth-er !  "  Again  the  voice  called  out.  "  You 
didn't  kiss  me  good  night.  We  didn't  say  good-bye 
to  Uncle  Philip  —  can't  we  come  down  ?  " 

I  was  stricken  dumb  with  remorse  and  horror. 


210          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

Philip  looked  at  me  with  compassionate  eyes.  "  Let 
them  come,  Katheryne,"  he  said,  tenderly. 

Two  little  white-clad  figures  were  on  the  lower 
landing,  waiting  permission  to  descend.  Philip  ex- 
tended his  arms;  there  was  a  joyous  shout  and  they 
came  leaping  down  the  stairs ;  at  a  bound,  Allan  was 
cuddled  close  against  Philip's  breast  —  Elizabeth 
clinging  to  his  arm. 

"  Daddy  was  cross  to  us,"  Allan  said,  his  lips  quiv- 
ering; the  quick  tears  of  childhood  filling  his  eyes. 

"  There,  little  man,"  Philip  soothed,  "  Daddy  was 
troubled." 

"  I  told  Allan  something  was  very  wrong,"  Eliza- 
beth said,  always  quick  in  defense  of  her  father, 
whom  she  idolized ;  "  Father  never  forgets  us." 

The  silence  that  enveloped  us  was  pregnant  with 
woe.  Elizabeth  glanced  from  one  to  the  other  in- 
quiringly, then  came  to  sit  on  the  arm  of  my  chair, 
with  her  arm  about  my  neck. 

"What's  the  matter,  Uncle  Philip?"  Allan  plain- 
tively asked,  taking  Philip's  face  between  soft  little 
hands,  and  looking  at  him  with  wide,  wondering 
eyes.  "  The  shine  has  all  gone  out  of  your  eyes,  and 
I  think  —  yes,  I'm  sure,  if  you  wasn't  a  big  man  — 
Td  think  I  saw  tears  in  them." 

"  Oh,  little  bubby,"  Philip  replied,  clasping  the 
child  closely  to  him,  "  it's  very  hard  for  Uncle  Philip 
to  leave  you." 

The  child  heart  was  filled  with  wonder  at  Philip's 
emotion.  This  was  a  new  friend,  very  different 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    211 

from  the  merry,  resourceful  playmate  he  loved  so 
well.  "  And  is  this  why  Daddy  went  away  ?  Was 
he  sorry  ?  I  peeped  over  the  banister  and  saw  him 
and  his  face  was  all  black  and  thundery." 

"Oh,  child !"  Philip  gasped. 

"  And,  muvver,"  he  continued,  his  curiosity  ram- 
pant, his  child  mind  eager  to  grasp  a  new  experi- 
ence, "  her  face  looks  just  as  it  used  to  look  when 
she  found  me  lying  on  the  ground.  Does  her  heart 
hurt,  too?" 

Philip's  face  was  an  ashen  hue  —  he  could  only 
bow  his  head. 

"  I'm  sorry,  too,"  Allan  wailed,  the  soft  arms 
going  about  Philip's  neck,  his  little  form  shaken  with 
sobs ;  the  inquisition  could  be  borne  no  longer. 

"  There,  dear  little  son,"  loosening  the  arms 
clasped  about  his  neck ;  "  we  won't  cry  any  more  — 
it  isn't  manly.  Mother  had  a  long  ride  today  and 
is  very  tired.  You  must  always  take  care  of  her. 
Go,  now,  and  kiss  her  goodnight,  then  you  must  go 
straight  to  bed  —  Sarah  won't  give  us  any  break- 
fast if  we  keep  her  up  longer." 

That  seemed  a  great  joke  to  Allan,  that  Sarah 
would  fail  him  in  anything,  especially  anything  so 
important  as  breakfast.  With  the  quick  transition 
of  childhood  from  sorrow  to  joy,  he  laughed  with 
the  tears  still  on  his  cheeks;  then,  with  his  face 
sobering,  he  once  more  took  Philip's  face  between 
his  hands : 

"  Do  you  know  God  yet,  Uncle  Philip?  " 


212          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

"  Not  very  well,  child,  I  fear,"  Philip  answered 
softly. 

"  Muwer  will  tell  you  about  Him.  She  says  He 
is  a  better  friend  than  even  mothers  or  daddies ;  she 
says  He's  '  Father-Mother-God,'  all  in  one  —  isn't 
that  funny,  Uncle  Philip  ?  Wouldn't  you  like  to  see 
Him.  He  made  me  well,  you  know  —  I  just  love 
Him,  and  Daddy  loves  Him,  too,  just  'cause  He 
made  me  well.  We  didn't  any  of  us  used  to  know 
God,  but  He's  the  best  friend  we  have  now  — 
Mother  said  so;  if  you're  sorry,  Uncle  Philip,  just 
tell  God  and  He'll  fix  it.  Good-bye,  Uncle  Philip !  " 
And  with  another  hug,  he  slipped  to  the  floor,  gave 
me  a  smothering  embrace,  and  he  and  Elizabeth 
climbed  the  stairs,  throwing  kisses  at  every  step, 
and  begging  Philip  to  come  again  soon. 

Philip  stood  looking  after  the  children  until  he 
heard  their  door  close.  "  The  end  of  Paradise,"  he 
murmured,  coming  to  kneel  beside  my  chair,  resting 
his  dark  head  against  my  arm. 

"  You  are  deciding  against  me,  Katheryne,  and  I 
am  so  hungry  for  home ;  I  want  you,  you  with  all 
your  glorious  womanhood ;  without  you,  only  lonely, 
empty  years  confront  me.  Why  should  soul  meet 
soul  only  to  part  again?  The  right  of  love  super- 
sedes all  legal  rights.  Through  all  Eternity  your 
heart  will  be  mine;  you  may  send  me  out  of  your 
life  forever,  but  these  moments  are  mine  beyond 
recall." 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          213 

"  Yes,  they  are  yours,  Philip,  but  I  must  ever 
bear  the  bitter  reproach  that  they  are  stolen  from 
the  father  of  my  children,  and  only  as  our  lives 
broaden  in  love  and  sympathy  for  the  needs  of 
others,  can  we  know  why  this  wonderful  love  has 
come  to  us  only  to  be  denied.  Let  us  strive  to  re- 
joice that  a  little  child  has  saved  us  from  ourselves." 
His  dear  head  pressed  heavily  against  me,  his  hand 
clasped  mine,  a  moment  I  allowed  my  lips  to  rest 
on  his  forehead,  then  pushed  him  from  me,  holding 
him  at  arm's  length.  "  Go,  now,  Philip,  go,  while 
we  are  both  strong." 

He  carried  my  hand  to  his  lips,  arose,  and  without 
a  backward  glance  went  out  into  the  night. 

As  I  sat  gazing  into  the  fire,  lost  in  chaotic 
thought,  my  door  once  more  opened  and  Billy  en- 
tered —  I  hastened  to  meet  him.  It  was  such  a  com- 
fort to  lay  my  aching  head  on  his  breast  and  feel 
his  kind  arms  about  me;  I  felt  so  alone,  so  desolate. 
"  Can  you  ever  love  me  again  ? "  I  asked,  through 
my  sobs. 

"  As  I  never  loved  you  before,  my  brave  girl," 
he  said.  "  You  have  passed  through  deep  waters 
and  overcome  a  great  temptation." 

"  Do  not  praise  me ;  you  do  not  know  how  weak 
I  am.  Only  God  could  save  me  from  myself  to- 
night; those  blessed  children  came  just  when  I  had 
forgotten  all  the  world  but  Philip — " 

"  God  never  fails  us,  dear  heart ;  by  the  alchemy 


214          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

of  spirit,  wrong  desires  are  overcome  and  the  beauty 
of  right  illumined.  I  never  felt  so  proud  of  my  girl 
as  now.  You  have  fought  the  hardest  battle  of  life, 
tonight,  dear." 

"  But  the  wrong  desire  is  not  overcome,"  I  pro- 
tested ;  "  I  cannot  see  even  one  step  ahead ;  all  is 
darkness  and  desolation.  That  I  had  the  strength 
to  send  Philip  away,  means  little.  I  have  no  sense 
of  shame  tonight,  Billy,  no  desire  to  cover  my  heart ; 
all  my  being  calls  for  Philip.  Love  is  a  divine  gift ; 
I  cannot  relinquish  it." 

"  Have  you  no  thought  for  Donald,  dear,  your 
children's  father  ?  "  he  asked,  tenderly,  pressing  my 
face  close  against  his  breast. 

"  None,  reason  has  no  place  in  my  thoughts  to- 
night; only  my  heart  speaks  and  Donald  has  gone, 
gone  forever ;  he  will  never  forgive  the  wrong  I  have 
done  him ;  he  has  never  loved  me,  or  he  would  not 
have  abandoned  me  in  my  great  need.  I  begged  him 
to  remain,  but  he  would  not  stay." 

"  Be  just,  Katheryne !  Put  yourself  in  Donald's 
place.  He  is  only  a  man,  but  one  in  a  thousand. 
His  return  rests  with  you,  and  you  alone." 

"But,  Billy!"  I  cried  — 

"  Say  no  more,"  he  interrupted.  "  You  must 
rest ;  you  are  trembling  with  emotion.  Shall  I  send 
Margaret  to  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  best  alone." 

His  hands  rested  on  my  shoulders  a  moment ;  his 
kind  eyes  searched  my  face  sympathetically. 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          215 

"  You  have  never  failed  me,  Katheryne,  when  I 
expected  you  to  do  a  big  thing,  and  you  won't  now." 
A  moment  longer,  his  gaze  lingered  on  my  face,  as 
if  loth  to  leave  me,  then  he  turned  silently  away  and 
left  the  room. 


ARIA 


"  Love's  a  mighty  lord.  .  .  . 

Thee  will  I  love  and  with  thee  lead  my  life." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

NOVEMBER. 

HOW  the  days  have  passed  since  that  night  when 
all  the  joy  and  light  of  life  seemed  to  vanish 
with  the  closing  of  my  door,  I  hardly  know.  My 
outer  life  is  unchanged.  The  routine  of  the  house- 
hold has  moved  smoothly  along.  I  have  performed 
my  accustomed  duties  with  unusual  precision,  as 
when  one's  all  lies  cold  and  silent  in  the  house, 
awaiting  burial.  We  walk  about  and  talk  and  eat 
and  sleep,  the  heart  wrapped  in  grief,  but  the  body 
moves  on,  satisfying  its  material  needs  as  insistently 
as  when  the  loved  one's  hand  clasped  our  own.  The 
very  agitation  that  accompanies  suffering  produces 
an  excitement  that  sustains  —  a  transient  strength. 

There  were  times  in  these  dead  days  when  the  chil- 
dren lured  me  from  myself,  with  their  overflowing 
life  and  youthful  buoyancy ;  when  we  would  take  a 
trip  into  the  city,  or  a  walk  to  some  favorite  haunt 
in  the  country;  when  they  talked  eagerly  of  the 
things  they  knew  I  loved,  seeking,  with  a  child's  keen 
intuition,  to  draw  me  from  the  lethargy  they  could 
not  fathom. 

And,  again,  there  were  times  —  when  the  evening 
shadows  fell  and  we  sat  enveloped  by  the  firelight  — 
219 


220          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

when  it  seemed  as  though  their  innocent  talk  would 
madden  me  —  the  children's  hour,  when  the  mother 
stands  revealed  before  her  child.  God  pity  her  if 
she  has  aught  to  hide  then !  All  the  dear  home  ties 
grapple  our  hearts  at  this  winsome  hour,  when  the 
genial  spirits  of  the  hearth  fire  are  hovering  near, 
whispering  of  the  joys  of  home. 

At  such  times,  Allan  would  draw  his  stool  to  my 
side  and  resting  his  small  elbows  on  my  knees  and 
his  head  on  his  hands,  gaze  at  me  with  his  translucent 
eyes  and  bombard  me  with  questions  that  wrung 
my  heart:  "  Where's  Daddy,  Muvver?  When  will 
he  come  back  ?  Why  did  he  go  ?  Why  don't  Uncle 
Philip  live  with  us  always?" — and  the  myriad 
queries  that  only  a  child  can  propound,  until  in 
desperation,  I  would  gather  him  in  my  arms,  switch 
on  the  lights  and  find  a  book  to  satisfy  his  insatiable 
mind  and  heart. 

Elizabeth  questions  little,  but  her  father's  absence 
is  a  sore  trial.  She  has  been  gradually  slipping  into 
the  companionable  corner  of  Donald's  nature,  an 
entrance  to  which  I  never  found.  Oftentimes,  she 
will  pause  at  her  play  and  her  thoughtful  eyes  take 
on  a  sad,  wistful,  faraway  look  —  then  I  know  her 
thoughts  are  with  him,  and  I  grovel  in  the  dust  of 
humility.  But  more  often,  there  was  neither  inlet 
nor  outlet  to  my  heart,  only  dreariness  and  apathy. 
I  wondered  at  my  impervious  armor,  my  stolidity. 
Would  I  ever  again  be  a  sentient  being  ?  Ever  again 
feel  the  swelling,  beating,  pulsating  tides  of  life  flow- 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    221 

ing  through  me?  I  longed  for  some  new  inward 
strife,  something  to  make  me  feel,  to  suffer,  even, 
that  I  might  be  stirred  into  life  again. 

Donald  had  disappeared  as  completely  as  though 
the  earth  had  closed  over  him.  Billy  had  taken 
charge  of  everything.  His  thoughtfulness  had  in- 
serted a  notice  of  Donald's  absence,  on  unexpected 
business,  for  an  indefinite  length  of  time.  He  ever 
surrounded  me  with  watchful  care,  guarding  me 
from  all  outward  unpleasantness. 

But  as  time  passed  on,  this  fictitious  strength 
failed  me ;  the  slow,  changed  life  that  follows  a  great 
sorrow,  brought  back  all  the  poignant  misery  of  my 
position.  The  dreary,  dull  days  of  unexpected 
sameness,  the  hunger  of  soul,  the  loneliness,  all 
threatened  to  engulf  me  in  despair.  My  mind  was 
filled  with  haunted  thoughts  that  banished  rest;  or 
if  a  moment's  respite  came  and  sleep  closed  my  ach- 
ing eyes,  it  all  came  back  more  vividly  still  in  dreams 
—  Donald's  scathing  words,  Philip's  pleading,  caress- 
ing voice.  My  mind  was  constantly  reverting  to  the 
years  of  discontent  as  Donald's  wife,  writhing  under 
his  severe  judgment,  which  I  well  knew  would  be 
formed  without  imagination  or  sympathy,  from  the 
heights  of  absolute  loyalty  to  duty,  from  which  he 
could  know  no  swerving.  I  felt  myself  flush  with 
humiliation  at  this  unsparing  condemnation,  yet 
rebelled  at  his  lack  of  understanding,  the  hardness 
in  him  that  would  not  recognize  my  unconscious 
reaching  out  for  the  love  that  would  complete  me. 


222          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

He  had  clothed  me  in  perfection  and  never  sought 
the  woman  divested  of  beauty  and  of  form.  Blind 
love  cheats  itself,  believing  only  that  which  it  de- 
sires, waking  to  find  the  dream  but  pain. 

My  garden  —  all  nature  teaches  forgetfulness. 
Allan's  healing  came  through  putting  away  dis- 
cordant things  of  the  past  and  believing  only  in  the 
power  of  good.  Growth  is  the  progress  of  oblivion. 
I  know  this,  and  I  have  sought  for  it  —  but  I  can 
not  forget;  memory  is  constantly  slipping  back  to 
the  golden  autumn  days  when  I  learned  the  beauty 
of  life.  Philip's  personality  is  stamped  upon  every- 
thing about  the  house,  as  well  as  the  minds  of  the 
occupants.  I  have  striven  desperately  to  follow 
Margaret's  instructions  to  "  bar  the  door  to  emo- 
tions that  are  antagonistic  to  my  highest  ideals ;  "  it 
has  been  a  continuous  effort  of  will  —  but  without 
avail.  God  seems  to  have  left  me  again ;  I  cannot 
feel  His  presence  nor  His  love.  I  have  failed  ut- 
terly, miserably.  Donald  has  gone  out  of  my  plans 
and  my  desires.  Philip,  only  Philip,  fills  my  mind 
and  heart.  I  have  come  again  to  question  the 
secrets  of  our  existence,  and  to  know  that  the  woman 
without  a  history  is  the  only  happy  woman. 

All  the  bright  plans  that  had  been  developing  since 
Allan's  healing  vanished.  I  was  wrapped  about 
with  thoughts  of  self,  living  in  a  dream  world  with 
Philip.  I  roamed  about  from  room  to  room,  unable 
to  occupy  myself  with  books,  even.  I  avoided 
friends  that  my  thought-world  might  not  be  invaded, 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    223 

and  at  last,  when  these  unrealized  dreams  could  be 
borne  no  longer,  I  went  to  Billy  with  the  question 
that  reiterated  itself  in  my  mind,  until  all  else  was  a 
blank. 

"  Donald's  return  rests  with  me,  you  said.  What 
if  I  do  not  wish  to  have  him  come  back  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  am  so  glad,  Katheryne,"  he  replied,  "  that  you 
have  come  to  me  with  this  question.  I  believe  I  can 
help  you.  Our  troubles  diminish  under  discussion. 
I  have  seen  your  pain  and  longed  for  your  confi- 
dence. A  friend,  you  know,  is  one  '  who  makes  us 
do  what  we  can,' —  who  wakens  us  from  sleep,  who 
scourges  us,  if  necessary,  on  to  nobility.  The  years 
have  proven  my  friendship,  Katheryne  —  you  do  not 
doubt  it?" 

"  No,  Billy,  never !  But  I  am  not  the  Katheryne 
you  used  to  know.  I  have  grown  selfish,  dumb  to 
every  voice  that  speaks  of  sacrifice.  I  am  a  woman, 
pleading  for  her  rights." 

"  Only  to  sense  are  you  changed,  dear.  Character 
cannot  grow  in  a  night,  neither  can  it  vanish,"  he 
said,  tenderly,  looking  at  me  with  eyes  overflowing 
with  kindness  and  compassion.  "  You  speak  of 
rights,  dear.  Forgive  me,  Katheryne,  for  going  into 
the  past.  The  thing  that  has  happened  to  you  is 
what  I  feared  in  the  long  ago,  and  what  I  tried  to 
tell  you  that  day  in  the  arbor,  when  I  made  you  so 
angry  and  you  would  not  listen,  for  I  knew  you 
better  than  you  knew  yourself  —  and  I  will  hurt  you 
again,  I  fear.  The  old  ties,  the  duties  you  willingly 


224          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

assumed,  have  grown  irksome  to  you;  your  heart 
rebels,  and  some  way,  somehow,  your  mortal  mind 
would  find  release  —  you  would  break  the  chain 
forged  by  your  own  hand  —  that  you  may  be  free  to 
follow  the  leadings  of  your  heart.  But  this  is  not 
the  real  you,  the  noble,  brave  Katheryne,  that  rose 
above  temptation  for  the  sake  of  husband  and  chil- 
dren, for  the  sake  of  right ;  and  even  now,  it  is  the 
divine  struggling  with  the  human  that  is  making  of 
you  a  battleground.  The  real  you  recognizes,  even 
under  the  terrible  stress  of  heart-hunger,  that  the 
ties  of  life  lie  not  so  much  in  our  own  desires  as  in 
the  expectations  we  have  aroused  in  others.  If  you 
are  true  to  your  womanhood,  Katheryne,  true  to 
God,  you  must  desire  Donald's  return  —  you  must 
win  him  back." 

"  How  can  I  win  him  back  ? "  I  expostulated, 
"  when  I  have  no  love  to  give  him  ?  Love  is  natural, 
it  cannot  be  forced  —  and,  oh,  Billy !  Life  is  so 
difficult!  The  mortal  part  of  me  is  stronger  than 
the  divine!  I  cannot  resist  the  thought  that  has 
come  to  me  of  late  —  it  comes  and  comes  again  with 
redoubled  force  —  that  it  is  right,  sometimes,  that 
we  should  follow  our  strongest  desires,  even  if  to 
the  world  it  appears  wrong." 

"  Yes,  dear,  this  thought  comes  with  redoubled 
force,  just  as  all  evil  thoughts,  once  allowed  to  enter 
our  minds,  become  more  and  more  insistent  as  we 
listen  to  them.  This  thought,  realized,  would  cut 
asunder  all  the  ties  your  former  life  has  made  for 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          225 

you,  cast  adrift  those  dependent  upon  you,  throw 
a  shadow  over  your  children's  lives  that  would  never 
lift.  If  life  were  quite  easy  and  simple,  as  it  might 
have  been  if  the  serpent  had  not  entered  the  Garden 
of  Eden;  if  life  had  not  made  duties  for  you  before 
love  came,  then  this  love  that  has  seemingly  absorbed 
you,  would  mean  that  you  and  Philip  ought  to  belong 
to  each  other.  But  it  is  not  so  now ;  your  ties  are 
formed  beyond  recall.  For  the  sake  of  right,  we 
must  renounce  many  things  in  life,  Katheryne. 
Some  of  us  must  resign  love.  Yes,  life  is  difficult, 
dear,  but  with  God's  help,  duty  becomes  pleasure. 
And  one  thing  must  be  clear  to  you,  that  while  mor- 
tal mind  tells  you  that  you  cannot  sacrifice  your  love, 
the  divine  in  you  imparts  the  wisdom  that  you  cannot 
gain  happiness  by  sacrificing  others." 

"  I  cannot  see  now,  Billy,"  I  said,  penitently  — "  I 
cannot  see  anything  but  the  desires  of  my  own  heart, 
but  I  will  try  once  more,  with  God's  help,  to  be  what 
you  wish  me  to  be.  It  will  take  time  —  it  seems, 
forever.  You  will  have  to  be  patient,  dear  friend. 
I  awoke  this  morning  so  desolate,  filled  with  rebel- 
lion ;  and,  I  fear,  ingratitude ;  when  all  at  once,  such 
a  sense  of  thanksgiving  came  over  me,  for  you  and 
Margaret,  that  I  bowed  my  head  in  sorrow  for  my 
wilfullness.  Where  would  I  be  but  for  your  tender 
care !  But,  it  does  seem  uphill  work  for  an  unloved 
wife  to  hope  to  win  back  a  husband  whom  she  has 
never  loved." 

"  An  unloved  wife !  "  he  cried  vehemently.    "  You 


226          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

little  know  the  man  you  married,  Katheryne.  Don- 
ald gave  you  all.  He  never  can  withdraw  his  love. 
If  he  does  not  return  to  you  he  will  become  a  wan- 
derer, without  home  or  love,  all  his  plans  for  life 
ruined.  It  was  only  when  his  famished  soul  cried 
out  for  something  more  than  you  could  give  that  he 
withdrew  into  himself  —  his  love  has  never 
changed." 

"  Oh,  God !  "  I  moaned,  remorse  beating  on  me  re- 
lentlessly. "  If  you  are  right,  Billy  —  if  this  is  true, 
what  might  I  not  have  made  of  life  had  I  but  loved 
the  same ! " 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

FOR  more  than  a  year,  I  have  been  struggling  up 
the  steep  ascent  of  the  Mount  of  Vision,  as 
Billy  presented  it  to  me.  My  progress  has  been 
slow.  Many  times  I  have  taken  but  one  step  for- 
ward, and  slipped  back  two.  Oftentimes,  Nature, 
God's  handiwork,  has  portrayed  truth  to  my  dis- 
couraged heart,  when  no  other  voice  could  reach  me. 
Thus,  as  I  groped  along  a  rocky  barrier,  seeking  to 
find  a  path  over  which  I  could  climb,  Mike's  battle 
with  dandelions  a  few  springs  back  flashed  into 
memory.  Our  beautiful,  velvety  lawn,  his  pride, 
was  threatened  with  destruction  from  this  persistent 
weed.  Each  day  he  uprooted  all  the  plants  in  sight, 
but  next  morning  when  I  looked  from  my  window, 
seemingly,  as  thick  as  ever,  the  saucy  dandelions 
reared  their  heads.  Each  tiny  rootlet  and  deep 
planted  seed  had  produced  new  growth.  So  all 
summer  long,  Mike  patiently  worked  a  part  of  each 
day,  Sundays  not  excepted,  rising  an  hour  earlier 
that  the  church  bells  would  not  find  him  laboring, 
and  that  no  single  flower  should  have  a  day's  growth. 
And  as  he  destroyed,  he  also  builded,  dropping  a  few 
seeds  of  blue-grass  into  the  opening  made  by  the 
227 


228          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

uprooted  weed.  Results  were  not  fully  realized 
until  the  following  spring,  when  the  lawn  had  never 
been  so  luxuriant,  as  with  its  added  growth  of  good 
seeds  sown  and  freedom  from  obnoxious  weeds. 

So,  each  seed  of  error  sown  must  be  patiently  up- 
rooted —  came  the  thought ;  the  wrong  desire  must 
give  place  to  the  right  thought  before  the  heights 
are  reached. 

And  again,  when  hours  of  rebellion  and  darkness 
came  to  me,  and  the  loneliness  seemed  more  than 
I  could  bear ;  when  the  mists  enveloped  me,  obscur- 
ing both  the  ascent  I  had  made  and  the  goal  to  which 
I  aspired,  softly  fluttering  before  my  mind's  eye, 
as  though  a  friendly  hand  reached  out  from  the  dark- 
ness, came  the  memory  of  my  first  experience  with 
potted  tulips  which,  after  remaining  six  weeks  in 
darkness,  still  gave  me  no  sign  of  life.  And  as  I 
surveyed  the  blank  pots,  my  vision  of  a  flower- 
filled  window  vanished;  I  was  sure  my  bulbs  had 
decayed,  when,  as  though  in  proof  of  man's  erring 
judgment,  I  accidentally  overturned  one  of  the  pots. 
Amazement  and  joy  took  possession  of  me  at  the 
revelation!  The  overturned  earth  was  white  with 
pushing,  vigorous  roots,  and  on  examination,  I 
found  a  sturdy  green  sprout  just  ready  to  push 
through  the  surface.  The  bulbs  were  carried  to  a 
sunny  window,  where  they  were  soon  a  stately  ar- 
ray of  beauty,  a  joy  to  the  beholder. 

So,  the  still  small  voice  whispered,  do  we  reach 
the  heights  of  vision  slowly,  step  by  step;  growth 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS    229 

made  in  silence  and  seclusion,  away  from  the  glare 
and  roar  of  public  praise  or  blame,  lays  a  foundation 
that  will  produce  a  rich  fruitage.  Thus  the  mists 
cleared,  giving  me  a  glimpse  of  God  and  His  mysteri- 
ous ways  of  teaching  truth. 

"  Flower  of  the  crannied  wall,  I  pluck  you  out 
of  the  crannies,  hold  you  here,  root  and  all,  in  my 
hand,  little  flower  —  but  if  I  could  understand  what 
you  are,  root  and  all,  and  all  in  all,  I  should  know 
what  God  and  man  is." —  I  looked  back,  and,  behold ! 
I  had  accomplished  half  the  ascent. 

I  HAVE  lived  an  inner  life  rather  than  an  outward 
one.  I  have  striven  daily  to  rid  my  mentality  of 
erroneous  thought,  to  make  each  day  one  of  mental 
advancement.  I  have  made  my  own,  one  of  the 
great  truths  of  life  —  that  we  determine  our  own 
fate  by  the  thoughts  and  emotions  we  entertain. 
And  so,  in  time,  my  efforts  were  rewarded,  as  faith- 
ful effort  will  ever  be.  I  reached  the  summit  of 
resignation,  from  whence  I  could  look  back  over 
the  rugged  steeps  I  had  climbed  and  view  the  won- 
derful vision  before  my  awakened  eyes. 

SWEET  PEACE  has  come  to  me  at  last,  the  peace 
that  comes  only  through  duty  performed  and  love 
of  God,  good.  .  I  have  not  outlived  my  sorrow ;  it 
has  not  slipped  from  me  as  a  temporary  burden  — 
neither  has  it  left  me  the  same.  The  fire  of  anguish 
and  wrestling  would  be  of  small  avail  if  we  came 


230          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

from  it  unchanged  —  if  we  were  nothing  but  our 
old  selves  at  the  end  of  it,  with  the  same  loves,  the 
same  thoughts  and  confidence  in  self,  with  no  better 
understanding  of  the  great  power  that  directs  the 
universe. 

Let  us  be  grateful  that  God,  in  His  wisdom,  makes 
of  our  sorrows  an  indestructible  force  for  good, 
giving  us  a  greater  sympathy,  a  better  understand- 
ing of  the  needs  of  humanity. 

I  trust  that  my  suffering  may  never  be  entirely 
forgotten,  that  it  may  ever  be  a  reminder  to  me 
to  strive  to  direct  the  lives  of  Elizabeth  and  my 
noble  boy  —  now  grown  sturdy  and  strong  —  into 
channels  of  right  thinking,  and  away  from  the  rocks 
that  so  nearly  wrecked  the  lives  of  their  parents. 
May  I  have  the  wisdom  to  teach  them  that  only  as 
love  is  of  "  the  brain,  the  mind,  the  soul,  is  the 
sequel  pure." 

MY  LOVE  for  Philip  is  with  me  still,  and  ever  will 
be.  Were  it  otherwise,  it  had  been  a  base,  ignoble 
thing.  If  I  had  yielded  to  this  beautiful,  terrible 
attraction;  had  I  forgotten  duty  to  husband  and 
love  for  children  —  forgotten  everything  for  self, 
then  would  I  be  guilty,  indeed.  But  God,  in  his 
mercy,  kept  me  true.  Love  came  to  me  when  only 
pain  could  follow  its  acceptance.  It  has  left  me  a 
more  lovable  woman,  of  a  larger  charity,  a  broader 
mind.  The  fire  has  burned  away  the  dross,  leav- 
ing the  gold  purified  and  refined.  I  have  not  ceased 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS     231 

to  love  Philip,  but  I  have  learned  to  be  happy  with- 
out him.  That  which  is  so  beautiful  and  attractive 
between  man  and  woman,  I  have  learned,  may  be 
succeeded  by  that  which  is  more  beautiful  still  — 
that  it  is  but  the  shadow  of  the  great  love  God  gives 
to  man,  and  I  am  happy  in  the  knowledge  that  God, 
in  His  great  crucible  of  compassionate  love  for  His 
erring  children,  makes  of  duty  a  divine  healer. 

I  have  come  to  desire  Donald's  return  above 
everything  else.  I  no  longer  question  my  ability  to 
bring  him  happiness,  if,  as  Billy  said,  he  still  loves 
me  —  but  the  "  if  "  looms  large  and  threatening. 
I  have  no  conception  of  his  location;  have  received 
no  word  from  him.  There  are  times  when  I  feel 
that  Billy  is  in  communication  with  him,  but  if  so, 
I  am  kept  in  ignorance  of  it. 

WE  HAVE  been  wandering  about  from  place  to 
place  for  more  than  a  year,  among  strangers,  where 
I  could  solve  my  problem  without  sympathy  or 
criticism.  When  I  drooped  and  could  not  be  made 
to  take  an  interest  in  anything,  when  gossip's  tongue 
began  to  wag,  Dear  Special  Friend  suggested  a 
winter  in  a  warmer  climate.  I  welcomed  any  change 
from  my  harrowing  surroundings.  Sarah  and 
Mike  were  competent  to  take  charge  of  home  af- 
fairs, so  our  preparations  were  hastily  made  and  we 
departed  for  Southern  California,  ostensibly  — 
through  Billy's  forethought  —  to  join  Donald. 

Spring  found  us  unwilling  to  return  north;  the 


232          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

dear  old  garden  had  no  attraction  —  and  here,  we 
found  all  our  home  flowers  in  greater  luxuriousness. 
If  outward  conditions  could  bring,  happiness,  it 
would  surely  come  in  full  measure  to  one  watching 
the  brown  hills  and  valleys,  watered  by  the  spring 
rains,  burst  forth  into  verdure  and  bloom  —  a 
Renaissance  of  Nature. 

During  the  heat  of  summer  we  traveled  farther 
north,  but  winter  found  us  once  more  at  Santa 
Barbara.  I  had  taken  a  pretty  cottage  for  the  sea- 
son that  we  might  live  our  own  life ;  —  and  here  it 
was  that  Donald  came  to  me  in  the  hush  of  twilight, 
as  I  sat  alone  one  evening  after  putting  the  children 
to  bed.  Our  meeting  was  one  of  those  rare  mo- 
ments of  implicit  revelation,  with  which  we  are 
sometimes  blessed.  This  was  the  compensation  for 
our  suffering.  We  were  given  transparent  eyes, 
through  which  we  could  look  into  the  heart  at  will. 
We  had  nothing  to  hide. 

"  You  have  been  long  in  coming,  Donald,"  I  said, 
as  we  stood  with  clasped  hands. 

"  I  could  not  come  until  you  wished  me,  dear," 
he  answered  softly;  and  then  I  knew  that  he  had 
come  at  Billy's  bidding. 

Longing  to  know  the  truth,  to  hear  from  his  own 
lips  how  he  had  come  back  to  me,  I  cast  aside  all 
fear,  and  asked  pleadingly,  "  You  have  forgotten 
all  ?  You  are  willing  to  trust  all  ?  " 

"  Or  I  would  not  be  here,  Katheryne,"  earnestly, 
looking  into  my  eyes.  "  Tell  me  nothing,  dear,  I 


SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS          233 

know  all.  We  will  forget  the  past  and  live  only  in 
the  future." 

"  Do  you  mean  this  from  your  inner  heart, 
Donald,  that  you  will  allow  no  shadows  of  the  past 
to  darken  our  lives  ?  The  human  heart  is  so  prone 
to  hug  its  delusions,  to  brood  in  self-pity  over  the 
remembrance  of  former  misery.  There  must  be  no 
hidden  thought  left  to  canker  and  drive  content- 
ment from  the  mind.  Can  you,  Donald,  can  you 
really  put  all  this  away  from  you  and  be  happy  with 
me,  as  though  it  had  never  been  ?  " 

He  gathered  me  in  his  arms  in  the  old  way, 
passionately,  roughly  tender,  with  a  deep  indrawn 
breath  that  told  of  weary  battling  with  self.  "  That 
would  be  beyond  human  power,  Katheryne,  did  you 
ever  know  a  deep  wound  to  heal  without  a  scar? 
But  the  scar  can  be  forgotten.  We  will  begin  all 
over,  dear,  and  I  am  confident  that  we  will  be  far 
happier  than  we  have  ever  been  before.  I  have 
learned  through  the  same  power  that  healed  Allan, 
that  if  we  would  have  the  full  joy  of  to-day,  we 
must  not  darken  it  with  the  shadows  of  yesterday. 
I  only  know,  dearest,  as  in  the  long  ago,  that  I  love 
only  you;  that  life  holds  nothing  for  me  without 
you." 

"  You  love  me  the  same,  in  the  face  of  all  the 
doubt  and  pain  ?  "  I  asked  wonderingly. 

"  Love  is  not  a  thing  to  be  given  and  withdrawn 
at  will;  we  do  not  know  why  we  love;  it  is  God's 
great  gift  to  man,  and  will  ever  be  shrouded  in 


234          SONG  BENEATH  THE  KEYS 

mystery.  We  are  attracted  by  beauty  and  accom- 
plishments, but  we  love  only  her  who  completes  us, 
who  inspires  us  to  toil,  to  struggle  on  even  when 
hope  is  gone,  who  infuses  strength  into  the  soul,  you 
are  all  this  to  me,  and  so  I  have  come  back  because 
I  could  not  stay  away." 

I  slipped  from  his  arms  and  knelt  at  his  feet, 
bowing  my  head  in  humiliation,  overcome  with  a 
sense  of  my  own  smallness  and  the  glory  of  a  heart 
great  enough  to  contain  a  love  that  never  tires. 

"  No,  love,  not  at  my  feet,  but  at  my  side  in 
gracious  womanhood;  and  your  philosophy  shall 
guide  us.  I  was  so  absorbed  in  outside  things,  in 
the  past,  that  I  forgot  to  be  tender.  I  should  have 
had  more  sympathy  and  interest  in  your  work  and 
plans;  I  should  have  made  a  greater  effort  to  un- 
derstand a  woman's  heart.  I  failed  you  in  many 
ways,  Katheryne,  and  have  returned  to  make 
amends." 


THE   END 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library  from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


GRIEF   AND  JOY 

It  takes  two  for  a  kiss, 

Unly  one  for  a  sigh; 
Iwatn  by  twain  we  marry 

Vne  by  one  we  die. 

'Joy  is  a  Partnership, 

Grief  weeps  alone- 
M<^y  guests  had  Cana, 

(rethsemane  had  one. 
—Frederic  Lawrence  Knowles 


